Hex Kittens
by papayabelly
Summary: Being half-ghost won't prepare him for how deadly these coeds turn out to be. So say your prayers, lock your doors, and don't think a girl like me can't be sweet.
1. Bitchcraft

**[TW: strong language, racism, graphic imagery]**

 **College girls can be deadly. Amity U freshman Danny Fenton may moonlight as a half-ghost superhero, but he's about to find out how deadly they can be, whether the girls in question are his ex Sam Manson, current crush and coincidental ghost hunter Valerie Gray, or a vengeful and homicidal spirit that has returned to plague the members of the Zeta Phi Zeta sorority.**

.:.

Nine feet in diameter, the chalk circle housed a downturned star drawn with five straight strokes, a candle blazing fervently in the darkness at each of its four points. A cloaked figure paced across the room with her lighter and kneeled over the fifth, unlit candle. Clicking it once to manifest a small flame, she brought the device down to the awaiting wick. Steadying the tip of the lighter's barrel so it lightly tapped the small fiber, she felt the porous material break off, the majority of its thin length falling to the side.

"Eff you, Bath and Body Works," huffed the figure. She disabled the flame and set down the tool. Picking up the glass jar, she held it against the illumination of the circle and tried to pick at the wax with a long, acrylic fingernail, but it was to no avail. The wick was too short.

"I can't believe I spent so much money on these crappy things," she griped, getting up in frustration. She walked over to her desk to retrieve another Pina Colada Smoothie candle. "Six-for-thirty coupon, my ass." Acquiring a new, hopefully non-defective jar from her drawer, she glided back over to the arrangement, placed it atop the point again and reactivated her lighter. To her satisfaction, when she lowered the flame this time, the candle lit seamlessly.

Grabbing her iPhone, which had been sitting on the floor next to the circle, she pulled up a note that consisted of various lines of Latin. Taking a deep breath, she gave a cautionary glance to the center of the star, where a golden chain necklace was sitting in a tangled pile. Its charm was visible, and the little heart-shaped item glimmered insidiously. The candlelight dappled the Greek letters carved into it: zeta, phi, and zeta.

"Umm," the young woman spoke, scrolling through the note until she found the correct chant, "umm…oh yeah! Like, et-kwee-eh-ree-teh-koom-eh-go-tex-ah-ni-mo-may-oh, kwan-do-ree-ver-tay-ter-ah-ten-eh-brees-ad-lu-ceem-et-est-oh-ee-bee?"

Proud that she had gotten through the spell, she stared at the necklace. An entire minute passed, and she saw no sign of it becoming anything more than completely stationary. About to search for another incantation, her process was interrupted by an incoming text appearing in all caps at the top of her phone screen. She groaned and tapped on the message.

"GOING ON A BOOZE RUN FOR TONIGHT. GET DOWN HERE BIOTCH" she read. Frowning, she hurriedly typed. "busy rn. be there in five."

Focusing back on the circle, she sighed. Disappointed that she wasn't as adept at summoning demonic spirits as she thought she would be, she mused aloud, "I probably pronounced it wrong. I should have studied harder in—"

Her lament was cut off by all five candles extinguishing simultaneously. There was a feral hiss, a gasp that morphed into a concentrated suctioning noise, and then silence.

* * *

Hex Kittens

* * *

| Amity Park University –2015 – 4:00 PM |

"And this is the courtyard…"

Danny's brows knitted together as he half-smiled at his friend, gesturing lamely towards the wide green space in front of them. He wasn't much of a tour guide. The expanse was modestly furnished with plain-looking benches and a gray stone fountain at the center—not exactly Ivy-League grandeur but still nice, in his opinion. He hoped she agreed. As a young superhero that was enjoying his final years of adolescence, he would like to think that he had sufficiently undergone a more-than-standard set of tribulations afforded to every teen who had been given otherworldly powers by freak accident, Peter Parker be damned. In fact, up until this past summer, he figured that he had the whole "appear amiably mediocre during daytime, transform into a smooth-talking, pun-making, ass-kicking phantasm at nighttime" + get-the-girl shtick on lock. Yet, here he was, still sweating under the judgment of a girl he had grown up with, and who had actually dumped him last June. Come on, he thought to himself, he had taken on undead overlords and their armies of ghouls all before sun-up—why was trying to impress girls still so scary? He was a college man now; he was supposed to have mastered this.

On a side note, he thought just for the record: ghost powers owned spider powers.

Sam Manson appeared amused at his awkward presentation. "Very cool."

"You think so?" he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "I-I mean, I bet it's nothing compared to Tanz…"

She shrugged. "I mean, it's hard to compare it to 19th century German architecture. But to be honest, half-timbered medieval buildings and spired cathedrals get old real fast."

His smile became a bit more relaxed. "I'm sure. So I take it you've been sufficiently charmed by Amity U?"

Sam laughed and hooked arms with her best friend of eight years. "I guess. Maybe we could finish off this tour by finding a place to sit down somewhere so I can eat this?" She waved the brown paper bag in her other hand. "I'm still surprised they had vegan empanadas at the campus café."

"See, I told you my school was progressive…" he said, words trailing off as he led her in no direction in particular. The hazy purple shadow crowning her eyes shimmered in the sunlight and had him thoroughly distracted. When she spoke again, he watched her dark red lips move, as if in slow motion, sensually forming the shapes of words he wasn't paying attention to but was sure were really, really intelligent. Much to her parents' disappointment, Sam hadn't "grow out" of the Goth phase she had adopted at the beginning of high school. Though, they let that slide since she had been able to get accepted to the prestigious Tanz Academy in Munich, Germany. Her mother figured in that context, her daughter's one-color wardrobe could be seen as chic in a European, dark Karl Lagerfeld sort of way. Her father was just relieved Sam would be far, far away from—

"Da-a-nny!"

Snapping out of his reverie, his eyes darted around to find the person who had shrilly sang out his name. He recognized the vivacious owner of the voice sitting on a picnic table near the conservatory, rapidly gesturing at him to come over to her and her irritated-looking friend. He gave her a weak wave in return, grinning uncomfortably and groaning on the inside. "Hey Paulina!"

"Oh God," grumbled Sam.

"Come over here!" Paulina beckoned, her silken black hair flowing in the breeze. The person seated next to her, another pretty coed Danny also knew fairly well, in fact much more so than Paulina, gave him an apologetic glance. His ears began to prickle with sudden warmth. Valerie Gray was another long-time friend, though they hadn't always been on such good terms. Actually, "mortal enemies" was a more accurate description of what their relationship had been for most of freshman year of high school. To be clear, he was a ghost, and Valerie, AKA the Red Huntress, was a ghost hunter. After a little mishap that occurred four years ago involving a rabid escaped ghost dog who had broken into Axion Laboratories, and that Danny Phantom had caused a ruckus trying to recapture, her father had lost his job as chief of security of the lab. No pun intended. Thus, her life as a member of the rich, popular upper crust at school went straight into the metaphorical crapper. Consequently, Valerie blamed Phantom for the entire thing and swore revenge on all of "his kind," which was a major bummer since she had no idea that Danny Phantom was Danny Fenton (whom she already believed to have been a major nerd), and still didn't.

However, as they progressed through their years at Casper High, she began to learn that neither Danny's were so bad. After many heartfelt apologies from Danny Phantom, she went from constantly and ferociously stalking him with all manner of ghost exterminating arrows, laser beams, throwing stars, electric nets, etc., to maybe only doing it once in a while and in a slightly less hell bent way. She turned her attention to hunting down other, actually malicious spirits; they had even worked together to bring down some big ghost baddies together. In addition, she learned that Danny Fenton was still a major nerd, but a nice one, and they had even dated for a little while, which Sam had definitely not been happy about. Fortunately for her, Danny and Valerie didn't last for more than a couple weeks due to, well, Valerie's nocturnal occupation as a ghost hunter eating up most of her extracurricular activities along with the two regular jobs she was working. They also grew apart as friends when Sam admitted her feelings to Danny the summer before senior year. Now that they were all in college and he and Sam were no longer together, Danny felt as though he and Valerie were getting close again, maybe platonically and maybe not. Either way, he knew Sam wouldn't be thrilled.

"Uh, I'm sorry." Danny told Sam quietly as he pulled her in their direction, unsure of why his body was so readily gravitating towards disaster.

" _Danny,_ " she whispered sharply in his ear. "You can't be serious. There's no way I'm talking to—Paulina! Heeey."

Her greeting couldn't have sound more contrived, but fortunately Paulina wasn't the type to pick up on those kinds of things; she enveloped Sam in a bone-crushing hug, exclaiming, "You look great!" Body tensing up on contact, her eye twitched before she mechanically patted the other girl on the back. Paulina's friend, however, saw right through Sam. She spoke coolly, with equal parts artificiality: "So good to see you again."

"Valerie." Sam said, features reserved but her lidded gaze boring a searing hole into Valerie's face. Danny scratched the back of his head.

"Uh, Sam's visiting Amity Park on holiday for a week," he said, trying his best to diffuse the tension. "Or she was…she's actually leaving on Monday."

"Aw, so soon?" Valerie inquired, the feigned disappointment in her voice causing Sam, who had managed to pry Paulina off of her, to promptly riposte.

"I'll be returning to Tanz Academy right about when the seasons start to change and all the wine festivals start," she said tartly. " _der herbst_ is probably the most beautiful time of year in Munich. That means autumn, by the way, Valerie. I know you got a C in German."

Valerie wasn't visibly fazed by her jab, but Danny quickly coughed to disrupt any ensuing nasty back-and-forth between the two.

"So…" he said, "were you guys doing homework or something?" Paulina giggled.

"Do you _see_ any books, Fenton?" scoffed Valerie.

"Yeah," Sam chimed in. "As if these two would ever do any homework."

He gulped. Watching nervously, he was beginning to think it was futile to prevent this imminent fight to the death.

"You might spend most of your life in a dark corner with your nose buried in a book," Valerie replied, primly tucking a loose curl behind her ear, "but we happen to have a little more of a social life. We were actually talking about the party going down tonight at Zeta Phi Zeta."

"Of course you guys would be part of a sorority," Sam said in disdainful monotone.

"Valerie's actually pledging Zeta because it awarded her a scholarship she applied for during senior year of high school," Danny stated thoughtfully.

Valerie looked flattered by him interjecting the detail, but Sam was unimpressed. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really." Valerie tossed her hair. "You're looking at the only member of Casper High's graduating class of 2015 to be awarded the _coveted_ title of Barbi Dickensheet scholar."

Paulina clapped her dainty hands together in admiration, but Sam only snorted. Valerie glowered at her. "Did I say something funny, Manson?"

"Oh no, no," she answered, repressing a laugh. "that name definitely sounds prestigious."

"You know what—"

"Ummm, Danny!" came Paulina's perky, well-timed interruption. "You and Sam should totally come over to the mansion tonight!"

He blinked, grateful that she had cut Valerie off but mostly taken aback by her offer. Danny had already been to a frat party once this year and it hadn't exactly been the time of his life. However, maybe hanging at ZPZ would be different? He and Valerie were already pretty good friends, and Paulina had grown much warmer towards him since they had all graduated. Though, while it wasn't unusual for sorority girls to invite non-Greek guys over for parties, he had heard they typically didn't like to make much conversation with them once they were there. But if Sam came with him…

"Maybe Tucker can bring some of the guys from Gamma Rho over," suggested Valerie.

Sam blinked and turned to Danny. " _Tucker_ is in a fraternity?"

"Yeah, the nerdiest one on Campus," said Paulina, tittering into her palm. Valerie elbowed her in the side.

"I mean," she sheepishly corrected herself, "it's a brotherhood dedicated to uh, computer science? Right?"

She looked at Valerie for confirmation, who merely shrugged. "Something like that. But it still makes him cooler than you, Manson, since you don't even go here."

Danny knew Valerie was trying to be nice, but he honestly agreed with Paulina. The frat party he had attended had actually been at Gamma house, where he had learned that "party at Gamma house" was a phrase synonymous with "League of Legends live stream party," hence the night not being as enjoyable as he had hoped. Danny did know, however, that Tucker and his fraternity brothers would jump at the chance to attend a Zeta party, and Valerie was currently giving him a very persuasive stare.

"Glad to see being in a sorority was a healthy way to maintain that sense of exclusivism I've always loved about you," Sam scathed.

"It's not exclusivism," Valerie shot back. "it's a defense mechanism I have against people who attend the Bavarian academy of bougie hoes."

Paulina tugged her arm. "Valerie!"

"What?"

Danny's mind was racing to find a way to salvage the situation. Sam tilted her head to the side in distaste. "I don't think Danny and I—"

"—have anything else to do tonight," he hastily finished. "What time should we come over?"

"Danny!"

"I'd say things will get interesting around 10," Valerie said, looking pleased. She grabbed the denim moto jacket that had been lying on the table next to her and slipped it back on. She and Paulina then got up from the table and gathered their bags, which both sported rhinestone-adorned buttons emblazoned with the pastel pink-and-blue ZPZ logo. Valerie straightened out her mini skirt and strode up close to Danny's chest, tapping a finger under his chin.

"Can't wait to see you there, Danny," she said, pursing her lips coquettishly. He raised an eyebrow as their gazes met, her hazel-green locking solidly onto his blue, and felt something stir within him at the touch. Brushing past Danny, Valerie gave Sam a curt nod and waggled her manicured fingers at the girl's face in a spiteful ta-ta. Sam crinkled her nose and scowled in response.

"And I want to hear what boys in Munich are like!" Paulina chirped. "All the German exchange students I've met here just weird."

"I'm sure Sam will have a lot to say on that topic," Danny said with a grin, waving goodbye as he watched them leave and knowing she wouldn't catch his sarcasm. Once they were out of hearing distance, Sam swiftly punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Danny yelped, stroking the now afflicted area. "What the heck was that for?"

" _Why_ did you accept their invitation?" she hissed at him.

"Aw come on, Sam," he placated. "you, me, and Tuck haven't had time to do anything together because of school just starting and all that—this could be an opportunity to have fun and blow off some steam."

"Why don't we just go to a movie?" she asked. "Or play video games in your dorm? You know, stuff that we would usually do?"

"I mean, we'll do that stuff too!" he replied. "It's Friday night…the weekend just started and this could be a fun way to kick it off."

Sam gave him a look of disbelief. "Um, do you even know me? Since when do I think sweaty parties full of hammered idiots are fun? Since when do _you_ think they're fun?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and avoided her eyes. "It's not that I think they're fun…well I mean, I don't know. This could be different. It's something new...and Paulina was really nice about inviting us. I know you don't really like her but she's changed a lot and—"

"What about Valerie?" Sam said, crossing her arms. "She didn't seem as welcoming."

"Look, she can be a little abrasive," he defended. "you know that. She'll come around soon enough. She doesn't really dislike you as much as you think, Sam."

"Well, I still really dislike her."

"She's my friend." Danny said with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Her expression softened.

"You like her again, don't you?" she asked, crunching a leaf underneath her black combat boot. Now she was the one avoiding his eyes. Danny wanted to slap himself; he hadn't meant to sound harsh, and making his best friend sad was the last thing he wanted to do during her visit home considering everything they had gone through over the summer.

"Um, well—sure I like her. We've been friends for a while and we also happen to be lab partners in Chem, and she's really smart and…uh…"

"And she totally just made a pass at you," Sam added. "which you really liked."

His cheeks felt hot at her blunt, and completely correct, assertion. Sam may have been his first real girlfriend, and clearly knew him better than anyone else, but ever since they had agreed not to do the long distance thing before she moved to Germany last June, Danny had become evasive on the topic of other girls, especially Valerie. It wasn't as if he didn't think he could be honest with her, but there was a creeping sense of guilt and definite remnants of affection he had for Sam, which he knew were mutual. More complicating, the Danny Phantom-Red Huntress dynamic had always been an exhilarating whirlwind of fluctuations since the two had become sworn frenemies, and this was something that hadn't wound down in college; if anything, it was escalating to new levels. Every Spiderman had his Black Cat, after all.

Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray may have grown apart senior year of high school due to him officially dating Sam, but lately their super-aliases had been clashing in the most sexual-tension-wrought head to head combat he had ever experienced. The start of college was typically perceived as an opportunity to start a new, to enter the next phase of life, and Danny's superhero antics had him feeling particularly rejuvenated as of recent. This was definitely pouring into his civilian interactions with Valerie. He had kept Danny Phantom a secret from her all throughout their days together at Casper High even when they had gone out, still positive that she preferred Danny Fenton over him despite becoming less cruel in battle. Yet, ever since the semester had begun, the Red Huntress's behavior towards him had become even more positive. She was of course still firing rounds upon rounds at his ghostly behind, but she was doing it a lot more flirtatiously. Despite not being as brutal towards him, he could feel that she was stronger than ever, and he was willing to bet that rekindling friendship with Danny Fenton during the day and affectionately being at Danny Phantom's throat by night had her rehashing all sorts of old feelings. It could even be spawning new ones. In more methods than one, she kept him on his toes—which he appreciated—and she was also incredibly hot, if he was being frank. These were all things that he found, ahem, a bit difficult to articulate to Sam, regardless of if he loved her like family.

So he wouldn't bother. "I mean, who knows about that," Danny deflected casually. "but why don't you just give the party a chance? Even if it is just to make fun of all the drunk ZPZ's doing dumb crap?"

Sam remained reluctant. "I don't know…"

"If Valerie gets unreasonable—which I really don't think she will—I'll definitely step in and say something, okay?"

"I don't need you to take care of me," grumbled Sam; her voice lightened. "but…if Tucker comes with us…it could get funny, I guess."

Danny envisioned his other best friend showing up with all of his bespectacled, cargo-short sporting, fedora-wearing Gamma brothers. "It'll definitely be funny. Also…" he put a hand on her shoulder, "I know you'll wear a great outfit that'll have the rest of those preppy sorority sisters hating like crazy."

She blushed. "Shut up, Fenton. Let me eat my empanada, which for your information has gotten _cold_ , and then we'll go find Tuck and pass along the cordial invitation."

He mentally rejoiced. _Victory._

* * *

| Zeta Phi Zeta Mansion – 9:30 PM |

Valerie descended the spiral staircase of Zeta house as fast as she could, adjusting her dress so that the spandex covered her rear. Each step she took sent another jolt of pain throughout her ankles. Having worn them for all of five minutes, the strappy pumps she had on her feet were already killing her. As she reached the bottom and tried hard not to completely stumble over to the end of a line of similarly distressed-looking sisters, the tall, waifish young woman standing in front of all of them cleared her throat.

"Observe, little menstrual cramps…" She demonstrated with a gesture of a bony hand, bejeweled French tips sparkling underneath the chandelier lighting, "your fellow pledge seems to have picked out a dress two sizes too small for her from the array of hand-me-down clothes I assembled for you this evening and, as a result of struggling to fit her fat ass into it, is showing up to the pre-party briefing five minutes late."

Valerie was silent, but daringly stared down the sisterhood president—Penelope Boyle-Slyman—as she continued on with her verbal tirade.

"I suppose we'll just have to work harder to break you out of colored-people's time, won't we?" she derided smoothly. The minions flanking her on either side, comprising the rest of the sorority chair which stood parallel to their peons, erupted into harsh, well-rehearsed, laughter. Sans their president, they were known from left-to-right as Caitlin Fowler, Holly Worthington, Jennifer MacDougal, and Gretchen Putnam. Penelope swiped her hand sharply in mid-air motioning for them to "cut it" after a few seconds. Next to her, Paulina comfortingly touched her arm, but Valerie looked murderous.

" _A_ nyway," said Penelope. "let us begin this meeting. Jennifer, the keg."

The five girls severed their alignment so that Jennifer could wheel forward a large wagon holding a giant bubble-gum colored barrel.

Penelope beamed. "Let me present to you the featured beverage for tonight's festivities…"

Picking up a clear goblet from a nearby table, she walked over to the hulking object and uncoiled the beer line connected to the pump. Chrome spigot in hand, she pulled the trigger and a jet of hot pink liquid shot into the glass, filling it up within seconds.

"Oh, it looks yummy!" one of the pledges, named Mallory, proclaimed excitedly.

"You think?" Penelope said, expression turning devious. "Why don't you come over here and have the first taste, then?"

They all looked expectantly at the petite redhead. Valerie contemplated telling her to pass, but the girl did not delay in eagerly hopping over to their oh-so-gracious leader.

"I'm so honored, President Slyman!" she gushed. Penelope narrowed her eyes.

"That's _Boyle_ -Slyman," she corrected tersely. "now drink the damn thing, bitch."

Nodding, the naïve girl accepted the goblet from her hand and took a generous swig. Her face blanched instantly, looking as if she had downed liquid excrement. Her grip on the glass tightened, knuckles turning white, arm trembling as she hacked violently. Shutting her eyes, she swallowed hard and began to pant rapidly as she bent over to support herself.

"What the hell did you just make her drink?" Valerie asked, shocked. Penelope gave her a saccharine smile.

"Why, none other than a savory cocktail whose recipe has been passed down through generations of ZPZ's," she explained. "full title as follows: 'The Zeta Phi Zeta Hot Pink Prairie Oyster.'"

"The _what?_ " Paulina asked.

"Two-parts Bourbon, one-part Cognac, three parts raw egg white, and a nutritious dose of tabasco, mayonnaise, salt, pepper, and a ton of the most artificially-flavored store-brand pink food coloring you can find to really bring out the color!"

Upon finishing her recitation of the ingredients, Penelope was tickled to see all the first year Zetas standing in front of her completely aghast.

"That…that's absolutely disgusting," commented Valerie, appalled.

"Indeed," Penelope said, "and it's the only thing you precious period shits are allowed to drink tonight."

That roused an uproar.

"Shut up!" screamed Jennifer, instantly silencing everyone. Penelope patted the other girl's head.

"Thank you Jen," she said. "Now, I better not hear a single complaint from you idiot sluts, especially since I am bestowing you with an _amazing_ opportunity."

"And what exactly is that?" Valerie inquired. "The opportunity to set our livers on fire and die of alcohol poisoning?"

Penelope thinned her lips. "No, Keke Palmer," she replied, her blinks disturbingly staccato in rhythm. "it's something far more prestigious. To the baby sister who can drink the most cups of this decadent potion tonight _without_ puking and-or passing out, I will award a two-hundred dollar Victoria's Secret gift card _and_ bequeath a bona fide boyfriend from Lambda Chi Epsilon! And he'll be a _sophomore_."

The young ZPZ's all gasped. Valerie began to wonder if this was all a horrible, horrible dream. She looked over to Paulina, who was chewing on her lip anxiously. Nudging her in the shoulder, she whispered, "P, can you believe this? It's insa—"

"A _sophomore?_ Really?" Paulina repeated, incredulous.

Penelope nodded. "Mmhmm."

Her friend's eyes ignited with competition. "Give me two right now, I'll get a head start!" Valerie groaned, dejectedly face-palming while Paulina scurried over to the keg.

"Me too!" came another girl's spirited voice.

"Same here!"

"I'll take three!"

Valerie had lost all hope for womankind at this point. Their president clasped her hands in satisfaction. "Yay. Now, you all have until four AM, and you'll be tallying your drinks here…"

"Um, Madame President?"

One of the chairs, a timid, chestnut-haired girl, tugged on the strap of her cerulean dress. The leader's face turned sour as she whipped her head towards the subordinate sister. " _What_ , Caitlin?"

She quickly withdrew her hand, looking skittish. "Erm, shouldn't we tell them about Felicity?"

"Who's Felicity?" Valerie asked, desperate to shift the conversation away from a how-to guide on acquiring hepatic cancer.

"I was getting to that, you whore. Don't _ever_ interrupt me again." was Penelope's venomous reply to Caitlin. Caitlin then slapped herself across the face. "I apologize Madame President," she apologized, bowing and then sulking away to Jennifer's side—though Jennifer didn't look all that more sympathetic. Penelope turned to the younger ZPZ's, expression switching to back to her signature, wickedly sweet smile. "Who indeed."

She ran her spindly fingers through her flaxen mane, looking enigmatically into the distance. Paulina and the rest waited in suspense, but Valerie merely rolled her eyes at Penelope's unnecessary, poorly-executed theatrics.

"Tell me, you little bright-eyed, bushy-tailed dead fetuses," Penelope began. "what do you know about loyalty?"

"Oh, give me a break," Valerie said, rubbing her temple. "will you just tell us the damn story?"

The older girl glared at her dangerously. Nevertheless, she continued with her monologue. "The first thing you need to know about loyalty in a sisterhood is to always surround yourself with bitches who would rather cut out their own ovaries than be disloyal to their sitting sorority president. Isn't that right, bitches?" Said bitches nodded confidently on cue.

"Unfortunately," Penelope explained. "not every incumbent has been lucky enough to be blessed with such a devoted cabinet. Thus was the misfortune of one Felicity Joann Nixon—no relation to Richard Nixon, although they kind of looked alike, that is if Richard Nixon had been a ninety-seven-pound brunette with false eyelashes.

Yes, poor Felicity was a gutless Zeta president who couldn't lead worth shit or take four straight blowjob shots to save her life. During her senior year, Zeta experienced the most extreme drop in popularity it had seen since its founding. Even the Gamma Rho's wouldn't confess to hooking up with a Zeta. The chairs were livid, humiliated that their administration would go down as the worst in history. Then, one morning after a particularly crazy party, the then-treasurer of the sorority found Felicity's lifeless body lying cold underneath the balcony of her bedroom. She apparently had gotten super drunk the night before and slipped, falling to her death.

At least, that was the official statement from the coroner's office. But rumor has it that Felicity was murdered by her cabinet, who was jealous of her position and dissatisfied with her leadership, and also because one of the member's boyfriends—I can't recall whose exactly—had left her to date Felicity because she quote-unquote 'wasn't as much of a heartless bitch.' It was the straw that broke the camel's back. And also Felicity's back. Amity U legend likes to maintain that the coroner was bribed generously to fabricate the report.

Needless to say, Felicity's ghost is rumored to return every year around rush week to like, totally wreak havoc on the current Zetas and suck out the souls of new pledges through their vaginas. It's supposed to be really painful. Perhaps it's symbolic of the pain we all have to go through here at Zeta Phi Zeta, the pain of branding ourselves with the letters 'ZPZ,'…pain we endure for greatness."

The other chair members burst into applause. Penelope bowed in gratitude while the pledges looked on in awe. Valerie had spent the last five minutes thoroughly engrossed in examining her fingernails, but she was fairly certain that Penelope's closing metaphor made no sense at all.

"But, like, we haven't seen her ghost yet." Paulina said, quirking her head to the side.

Penelope sneered at her. "That's because she doesn't exist, Dora. Her ghost isn't real."

"But, Amity Park is always _crawling_ with angry ghosts!" Paulina insisted, apparently uninhibited by the "Dora" comment, "Danny Phantom is always tracking them down! He's really, really good at it."

Valerie coughed. "The Red Huntress is better."

"Who?" Penelope asked rudely, making Valerie bristle. "Anyway, whoever she is, she's probably just as irrelevant as that ghost-freak. Look, Amity Park may be filled with all sorts of fugly ghouls, but Felicity isn't one of them. If her ghost existed, it would have shown up by now. I mean, the bitch has been dead for twelve whole years. We just tell each year's pledges the story to spook them a little, but as you might expect, ever since ghosts started regularly showing up around this shit town, the tale has been having less and less effect. We just like to keep up the tradition. Now, moving on…"

The topic returned to the terms of the ridiculous drinking competition which would likely end with more than one of the Zeta's in a paramedic van. Valerie vaguely reflected on the story that had just been told, if only to faze out Penelope's snooty voice. It certainly wasn't more outrageous than the origins of any other psychotically vengeful ghost that Valerie had gone up against, but then again it could likely be another pointless thing made up in the name of Zeta "tradition." Honestly, she would find battling Felicity Joann Nixon more exciting than being hit on by a smelly frat guy or anything else that would be happening tonight…unless of course that anything involved getting Danny Fenton alone somewhere. She smiled at the thought of him in his red flannel and skinny jeans: signature outfit of all average, straight white guys. So adorably bland, she daydreamed. Valerie admitted that he had never been what her friends would have considered her type, but he was a good friend and they had dated back in high school, albeit very shortly. They had drifted during senior year thanks to a pretentious Goth wannabe who Valerie still didn't care much for, and who also happened to still be his closest friend. Now that they were in college and Danny was single again—and that mesh-clad harpy had brooded off to Germany for university—Valerie was glad to have picked their friendship up where they had left it, even if Sam was in town temporarily. She hoped that the other girl's visit hadn't stirred up his affections again and they wouldn't get back together, though Valerie felt slightly ashamed of how possessive her thoughts were.

Then there was Danny Phantom, who was also strangely becoming more appealing to her. Totally still annoying, but becoming very entertaining to flirt with in battle. He had always been cocky, which had largely peeved her throughout their interactions in high school, but now she might have been warming up to his ghostly bravado. Whatever it was, tangling with him every so often was increasing her confidence and gutsiness, so much that she might just make her move on the other Danny tonight. However, she wouldn't be able to do so smoothly if she was pumped full of bourbon and tabasco.

"Penelope," Valerie called out to the president after everyone had dispersed from the foyer and the shuffle of party goers could be heard from outside the mansion's entrance. The head Zeta turned and gave her a sour look, which Valerie disregarded.

"What, Serena Williams?" she asked. Valerie found that remark harder to disregard.

"I want to let you know that I'm not taking part in this stupid drinking contest," she said firmly.

Penelope laughed. "I would think your people excel the most at over-drinking," she commented, "and also doing drugs. And also doing them both at the same time."

Valerie seemed to lose the ability to disregard altogether. "I'm gonna knock the lip injections out of you, bitch." She grabbed the front of Penelope's dress, clenching the satiny fabric tightly. The president was unintimidated.

"Oh my," she said, slyly. "looks like somebody desperately wants to lose their Barbi Dickensheet scholarship."

Wordlessly, they stared at each other for a moment before Valerie let go of the other girl, growling in defeat.

"If the Dean wasn't your father," she spat rancorously, "I'd have a mind to report your racist ass."

"I'll be sure to mull over that late at night in bed, Val," was Penelope's prissy reply.

"Whatever, leatherface," Valerie dismissed, "but I'm still not drinking a drop of that repulsive crap. I won't be won over by gift cards and uglyass frat guys like the rest of the pledges. I've got ambition that goes beyond climbing the hierarchy of this shitty sorority."

"Wow, you're a real Michelle Obama," Penelope said in dull, mock admiration. Valerie snatched hold of her own wrist to restrain her fist from sailing right into the president's face.

"Do what you like," she went on, "drink Sprite like a stunted social reject for all I care. But listen,"

Her face hovered closely to Valerie's, blue eyes icy with warning.

"This might be the first time in five years that Zeta Phi has allowed your and Lupe's kind into its ranks, but you should really consider fixing that attitude of yours," she cautioned darkly. "because if you don't, I'll have to fix it for you."

The younger sister bore no sign of trepidation. "Is this another fear tactic like that lameass story?"

Penelope smacked her perfectly matte, fuchsia-tinted lips together. "Yes, actually. But unlike Felicia Jo, I'm real and living, and can make your life a living _hell_. So I suggest you fear those who are still breathing before you fear the dead. Or you might just end up the same way."

Valerie raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?" One last tense pause transpired between them. Hostility lessening, Penelope drew back and regained her nauseatingly sugary smile. "Oh lighten up, Val. Learn to take a joke," she said in honeyed tone. "Do I really seem capable of hurting anyone?"

She giggled and sauntered away, looking elated to see a burly Lambda Chi walk through the door. Valerie glared daggers into Penelope's back as the crowd of students thronged around her. She heard Paulina's bubbly voice from behind.

"You know," she said with a gulp. "These don't taste _that_ bad…"

* * *

Danny fiddled with the buttons of his red flannel shirt for what seemed like the hundredth time, causing Sam to roll her eyes. She gave him a light shove.

"Would you quit it?" she muttered. "You've been obsessing over your shirt for like the past ten minutes. It's distracting."

His hands dropped to his sides. "Sorry," he apologized meekly. "I just can't figure out if I should leave it unbuttoned or buttoned. Or maybe buttoned halfway? What do you think?"

Her face was expressionless. "Yes."

He soured mildly at her disinterest, finding his fingers creeping up his placket front again. As they closed around his center button once more, he pondered which look Valerie preferred, or if she even cared about what he wore or did at all. Ever since he, Sam, and all five members of the Gamma Rho brotherhood, including Tucker, had arrived at the Zeta mansion, Valerie had maybe spoken ten words to Danny. Trying to casually walk into a packed, strobe-lit sorority house pulsating with heavy bass was difficult enough, but when the people who you thought had so enthusiastically invited you didn't even want to converse with you for more than thirty seconds, the situation became significantly more awkward. At least for him and Sam. Much to the chagrin of the other frat guys there, Tucker and his brothers were having a complete ball flirting with every girl that crossed their path. To Danny's surprise, they seemed unconstrained by any kind of shyness, but he figured their boldness was aided by a good amount of vodka. Or maybe just one shot per brother—it didn't take much to get those guys fired up and talking about the Wii U. Meanwhile, he and Sam were leaning against a wall, looking bored beyond belief.

"Still think this was a good idea?" asked Sam, looking quite vindicated as she idly sashayed in her flowing black skirt, a solid black mini with a sheer chiffon overlay. She had evidently came dressed to the nines for no reason.

"Hey, it's only been like an hour," said Danny. "things could still get interesting."

"Things were supposed to be interesting when we got here," she complained. "at least that's what your girlfriend said."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"You wish she was," Sam said. "I'm sure you guys would have really hot, steamy sessions of her ignoring you from across a crowded room."

That was a jab too far. Danny turned away, looking hurt. She inwardly cursed her smart mouth.

"Sorry," she apologized shortly after making the joke. "parties like this just put me on edge."

He twiddled his thumbs together. "Yeah well…it's cool," Danny said. "I'm the one who made you come, so I guess I deserved that. Valerie clearly doesn't want to hang out with me. What happened today probably didn't mean anything at all."

Unhappy to see him so down, Sam gave him an atypically hopeful look. "Well, maybe she's just busy right now. She'll probably come over and talk later."

Danny glanced up at the girl in question standing next to the wall opposite them, smiling that pretty smile of hers at a guy that wasn't him, who looked like a swimmer. Swimmer douche, Danny acrimoniously nicknamed him. He was tall, lean and seemed to be telling Valerie something hilarious, because Danny could make out her jubilant laughter even at a distance. Though, he was most likely just imagining the sound in his head, since there was a gratingly loud Pitbull song playing in the background. Paulina was standing close to Valerie and appeared twice as animated, waving her arms wildly as she spoke to the guy's friend. Danny's eyes glazed over as he watched the scene, envisioning a scenario in which he sidled up to Valerie and interjected, "Hey you. We haven't danced all night," to which she'd reply. "Aw hi, bae! Sorry guys, I gotta go grind this ass up on my boyfriend. See ya!"

"Danny."

And then she would throw it back up against him all night in the middle of the Zeta Phi living room, and maybe in another room…

"Danny."

No, no, Danny admonished himself mentally. He wanted to wait a bit before that. He wasn't a virgin, but he didn't want to just sleep with Valerie. He wanted to properly ask her out and go on a couple dates before they got that intimate. He watched her play with the hem of her short dress, which hugged her bottom half like a dream, and shift her weight from one smooth, pin-up leg to the other.

He reconsidered, thinking he could settle for third base.

"Danny!"

Startled, Danny felt a lukewarm splash against his wrist as beer sloshed over the rim of his cup.

"What?" he asked. Sam was staring at him pointedly, looking irritated.

"I asked you if you wanted to get something to eat."

"Huh?" He blinked. "Oh. There's food?"

"Uh, yeah?" she said, motioning to the long table stationed against the other wall with drunken people seizing appetizers left and right. "Do you not see that gourmet spread over there? Or are you too busy imagining Valerie naked to notice?"

His face flushed. "No, I saw it! Y-yeah, it looks awesome, let's go."

Sam sighed in frustration and then made a beeline for the table. Danny followed hurriedly. "Hey, wait up!"

Danny found the array of food to be gourmet indeed. They even had the Tuscan spinach dip from T.G.I. Fridays. He watched Sam load her plate with crispy green bean fries, which was probably the only thing there she could eat. Stuffing four in her mouth, she mumbled something at him. "Goalker"

"Excuse me?" he asked playfully. "Remember Sam, chew, then swallow."

"Ha, ha," she said once her mouth was free of deep fried legumes, "stop being a smartass and follow my advice."

"And what advice is that?"

" _Go talk to her._ " She gestured her plate, spilling some beans onto the floor, at Valerie's back. Valerie was standing at the other end of the table with Paulina. Danny hadn't realized he was within within five feet of them. Nerves eating at his psyche, he started buttoning up his shirt.

"Oh my god," Sam said, slapping him on the wrist. "stop messing with your freaking shirt and get over there, Don Juan."

With that, she gave him a mighty push that sent him staggering not into Valerie, but her intoxicated sorority sister.

"Heeeey!" Paulina cried, spilling her drink onto her skirt, "Ah _mierda!_ "

She swore and immediately began to clumsily rub her hand across the damp polyester, apparently thinking that doing so would take out the stain. "Now I'm going to smell like mayo all night! Thanks a lot—" She looked up to see him awkwardly standing next to Valerie and presumed to get right up in his face. "—Danny!" He covered his nose; Paulina's breath smelled like a rotten steak omelet.

"Wow, Paulina, I'm really sorry!" Danny apologized frantically. He turned his head and shot Sam a resentful glare. She flashed him a thumbs up. Returning his attention to Paulina, she saw that she was now swaying dizzily away from him. Gingerly, he reached out his hand, but before he could attempt to steady her, she lurched forward and vomited all over swimmer douche's shoes. He and Valerie were speechless. From behind, he could hear Sam utter, "Yikes."

"What the hell!" swimmer douche yelled.

"Ohhh shit," said Valerie, grabbing the shaky Paulina and resting her on her shoulder. "We've got to get you to the bathroom."

"Ughhh…'m dyinggg…" she slurred.

"Are you bitches really going to walk away from me right now?" he asked, fully enraged. Valerie grew livid at his words, knowing she would have clocked him in two seconds if she wasn't supporting her intoxicated Zeta sister against her body. Danny seemed even more incensed.

"What the hell did you just say?" he asked before Valerie could reply, feeling like he was one step away from converting into his ghostly alter ego. Danny yanked swimmer douche's polo by the collar. The latter responded by also grabbing a fistful of Danny's shirt lapel, popping off two buttons in the process. _Damn it_ , he thought to himself.

"You looking for something, asswipe?" the larger male snarled. "You made that slut throw up all over me! I should beat the shit out of you!"

"Don't call her that, dick!" snapped Valerie.

"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it, bitch?"

"Dude, call her that again and I swear I'll take you out," Danny threatened. The temperature in the room dropped a good ten degrees. Valerie's eyes widened, disquieted by his rapid change in demeanor.

"I'd like to see you try," swimmer douche goaded, though slightly unnerved by the sudden chill.

"Brad," his friend said, trying to ease the situation, "take it easy."

"Stay out of this, Kyle."

If she had been less mad, Valerie would have chuckled at how heterosexually meatheaded their names sounded in that exchange.

" _What_ is going on here?" came a furious voice. Danny and his opponent broke eye contact. They turned to see an ultra thin, plump-lipped blonde poised with her hands on her hips and flanked by cronies, fuming at all of them. Everyone else in the room had also stopped whatever they had been doing prior to observe the incident occurring, anxiously waiting to see what would unfurl next.

"President B.S.!" said Valerie, startled. "I mean Boyle-Slyman!"

Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose in revulsion. "Oh. My. God! She looks like shit! And she threw up all over the carpet!"

Valerie narrowed her eyes. She hugged Paulina close to her protectively. "Well, if it wasn't for your stupid drinking contest she wouldn't have gotten so wasted!" she accused. "This is all your fault! You and your whole despotic cabinet!"

"I don't want to hear it, Naomi!" barked Penelope, "Take that moron into the upstairs bath and clean her up, _now!_ You guys are SO out of the contest!"

"I wasn't ever in the contest to begin with!"

"Get out of my sight!"

Paulina made a queasy gurgling noise, effectively causing any biting comeback Valerie was rearing to die in her throat. Giving her president the dirtiest look she could muster, she dragged her friend away, nudging Danny in the arm for good measure as she went. He and Brad had calmed down in the presence of the frighteningly authoritative head Zeta. The music played on, no one daring to say a word.

"Well?" Penelope said. "What is everyone staring at? Continue partying!"

A few coughs and some faint movement could be heard, but other than that, everyone remained still.

" _Continue!_ " Jennifer shrieked.

Her command was a pitch below fracturing the French windows. It made everyone resume their drinking and socializing, if only out of pure fear of the Zetas' combined wrath. Satisfied for the moment, Penelope stalked back over to the three Lambda Chi's she had left dumbfounded by a tower of six packs, and her minions scampered after her. Stunned, Danny watched Valerie and Paulina's receding forms as the soberer of the two helped the other up the stairs. Brad had already walked away with Kyle, commencing to talk all kinds of shit to their other friends in the corner. Danny felt someone take hold of his arm. He looked to his left and saw Sam's bewildered face.

"Hoooly shit," was the only thing she said.

"Guys!"

Both spun around to see Tucker rushing up to them.

"What the heck just happened?" he asked, looking distraught. "Danny, were you about to fight that guy?"

Danny shrugged off his friend's worried question. "Nah," he said. "I mean, you know how we are…guys always talk tough to each other and most of the time nothing happens."

Tucker didn't actually look like he did know. "Uh, okay." He assented, still bothered by what had occurred.

"Trust me, it was no big deal."

"You looked ready to go ghost, dude."

Danny's eyes uneasily went from Tucker's concerned face to Sam's.

"Danny," Sam said guiltily, "we should go up and check on Paulina."

Feeling justified in milking her guilt a little, he asked, "And what makes you so eager to do that?"

Her gaze dropped to the barf-stained floor. "I shouldn't have shoved you. That was kind of…all my fault. Sorry."

Hearing her candor, he exhaled slowly. "Crap."

Sam lifted her head, gazing oddly at him.

"I just…" he said, sighing to himself with a smile. "can't ever really be mad at you."

In reaction, Tucker's expression almost matched Paulina's in nausea, though he wasn't drunk. If he had been getting there before, he had witnessed enough by now to sober him up quite nicely.

"Let's go already," he said, exasperatedly pushing his friends towards the staircase.

"What about your bros?" Danny quipped.

"They'll be fine without me, don't worry," Tucker assured. The Gamma Rho's were all sitting on the sofa, snorting in laughter as one brother controlled the flat screen TV with his phone, playing obscure Youtube clips that only seemed amusing to them as nearby people looked on with annoyance.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker ascended to the second floor, bracing themselves for the worst.

* * *

"I'm not gonna win a boyfriend!" wailed Paulina, sobbing into Valerie's chest. She rubbed her fellow pledge's back gently.

"You don't wanna date one of those assholes from Lambda Chi anyway," comforted Valerie. Paulina was inconsolable.

"But Penelope said he was—" Paulina released a loud belch. "A _sophomore!_ "

Her friend lightly positioned the girl's face over the commode again, securely holding her long hair behind her with one hand. "Who cares? Now if you're gonna throw up, do it right in the bowl."

"Oh my God, Valll…" Paulina said, voice echoing in the toilet, "I l-uh-rve youuu…"

"Yeah, yeah," said Valerie, caressing her friend's shoulder. "now after you puke, drink some water…"

She heard the bathroom door open. Paulina's head raised and they both looked up at their visitors.

"Woah, this bathroom is so nice I could live in here! Oh damn, she does look like shit."

Wishing she had remembered to lock herself and Paulina inside, Valerie stared in annoyance at an amazed Tucker Foley, Danny and Sam on either side of him.

"What do you guys want?" she brusquely asked them.

"To help," Danny offered with a weak smile.

"Yeah well, I think you've helped enough," muttered Valerie.

"Valerie," Sam said seriously, looking like it was absolutely destroying her to speak. "I pushed Danny into Paulina."

"What?" snapped Valerie. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"It was an accident!" Sam answered. "Oh, she's drooling all over herself."

Black skirt billowing, she strode over to kneel beside the two sorority sisters. Sam tore off a generous section of toilet paper from the roll hanging from the wall and began to wipe Paulina's chin.

"I didn't ask for your assistance, Manson," said Valerie sharply.

"Deal with it," was Sam's succinct reply.

"Sssam? Is that you?" Paulina breathed her rancid, alcohol-soaked breath into the girl's face. Sam gagged.

"Hey," she said, trying not to inhale.

"I…I l-UH-rve you!" Paulina exclaimed, throwing her arms around Sam's neck. Mortified on the inside, she allowed the gesture of affection, though she thought she was becoming a little too lenient with Paulina's hugs. Sam rationalized this by chalking Paulina's current embrace up to drunkenness, but froze when she heard her make some pre-hurling noises.

"Do it in the toilet!" yelled both Sam and Valerie in unison. Valerie tore Paulina away and Sam helped place her face over the toilet again, into which she released a torrential stream of vomit.

"Ew," Tucker said.

"Shut up, Tucker," they spoke together again. Danny laughed, earning him two irritated glances.

"What are you so amused about, Fenton?" Valerie asked.

"Uh, nothing." He bowed apologetically.

"I've never seen her like this before," said Sam, actually fretting over Paulina for probably the first time in her life.

"Yeah, well," Valerie said, "you can blame it on six Hot Pink Prairie Oysters."

"…what?"

"The signature Zeta Phi hazing drink," Valerie explained. "It's made with Cognac, Bourbon, tabasco, mayo, and a bunch of other nasty things."

"That sounds revolting," Sam said, "why would anyone want to drink that?"

"To win a two hundred dollar Victoria's Secret gift card and a tool boyfriend," Valerie said bitterly. "our illustrious Zeta president announced there was a contest for whoever could drink the most of them. Paulina tried to get ahead of the competition by getting started before the party even got underway."

Sam was sickened. "A _contest?_ That's the most demoralizing thing I've ever heard—and people say sororities are about sisterhood!"

"You're preaching to the choir, Manson," grumbled Valerie, tired. "unfortunately this sorority is the only loan-free way I can fund my college career. And its president happens to be the Dean's daughter."

Face gradually becoming sympathetic, Sam dabbed Paulina's cheek with more teepee. "I'm…sorry."

Unaccustomed to such sincerity from her, Valerie tried not to make a big deal about the subject. "It's whatever. I just have to look out for my girl here. I've been following her everywhere all night, which means having to make small talk with all manner of dumbass frat dudes. P was basically plastered in less than an hour."

Realization dawned upon Danny. "Is that why you guys weren't talking to us much?" he asked.

Valerie nodded in confirmation. "Sorry."

"It's cool," he said, discomfited.

"Yeah," Tucker added. "I still think the party's sweet. I got like, three phone numbers—and one of them was from a Kappa Tau!"

"Nice," commented Valerie sardonically. Sam was equally unimpressed. Danny was becoming more embarrassed by the second.

"Uh, Valerie?" Sam said.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you go and enjoy the party," she suggested. "Tucker and I will look after Paulina for you."

"We'll what?" Tucker said, causing Sam to stifle him with a glare.

Valerie couldn't hide her surprise at Sam's abnormal show of kindness towards her. "Wait, you've got to be joking."

"Not joking," Sam affirmed. "Look, you've been taking care of Paulina all night, and it was my fault Danny bumped into her and made her barf all over that guy's shoes…although I don't really feel bad for him since he was a moron anyway."

"True."

"So, go and try to have a good time, okay?" said Sam, actually giving her a smile—a sight that sufficiently spooked Danny and Tucker. "Besides, I think Danny has something he wants to ask you."

He blinked. "I do?"

Valerie stayed hesitant for a second, but soon stood up from her squatting position.

"Uh, thanks, Manson. Sam." She tried to return a friendly tone.

"No problem," said Sam warmly, unnerving her two male friends more and more.

"But you and Tucker better take good care of her," Valerie ordered sternly. "make sure she gets as much grossness out of her as she can and that she drinks a lot of water. And put her to bed, _alone_."

She looked accusatorily at Tucker, who seemed offended.

"No worries," Sam said. "now you and Danny go have fun. Tucker, get over here."

She nodded with gratitude. Tucker groaned. "But whyyyy do I have to help?"

"Because you could afford to do something nice for a girl instead of hitting on every guileless freshman you can get to talk to you for more than two minutes!"

"Aw man." Slumped over in disappointment, he ambled over to the drunk girl's aid.

"Tuckerrr?" came Paulina's garbled voice. Her face reappeared over the bowl as she supported herself on the commode. Wiping regurgitated slime from the side of her mouth, she grinned at him and touched his chest with her other hand. "Tucker you're sooo cute!"

"…really?" he said, astounded and leaning into her touch, despite how putrid she smelled.

"Tucker."

"What!" he inquired agitatedly at Sam.

Valerie had walked over to Danny, who was still standing near the open door. She wore a small, apprehensive grin.

"Well," she said, a bit nervous. "shall we?"

He smiled, feeling at ease. "Definitely."

She paused, looking down at her outfit. "Um, let me just go change first," Valerie said, thinking her clothes must have reeked of puke.

"Sure." Danny nodded understandingly. She slipped out, and before he followed after her, he gave Sam a questioning look.

She only smirked. "You're welcome."

"Tuckerrrr, you're, l-like the nicest guy ever!"

"You think?"

"Tucker."

" _What_ , Sam? She said it!"

* * *

The suite Valerie shared was apparently the smallest one in the mansion, but it could easily fit three of Danny's dorm rooms. Praying for his heart to stop beating so rapidly, he sat on the edge of her bed. Valerie's sunflower-decorated comforter was soft underneath his hands. He found himself picking at the stitches of a plaid patch covering a small hole in the quilting. Danny watched Valerie's dim shadow move against the large changing screen, her curvaceous silhouette barely visible through the tinted glass. She was driving him crazy, and he knew she knew.

"Why did that chick call you Naomi?" asked Danny, trying to distract himself with conversation.

"Because she's a racist bitch," answered Valerie.

"What?"

Alarmed, he saw the newly-dressed Valerie exit left and come into view just as she was pulling down her top; she purposely let him briefly see the bottom contours of her peach bra. Her cropped tee was tight on her chest and partially covered the long, slender dell that faintly halved her chiseled abdomen. Her midrise shorts strained against her powerful thighs.

Valerie sighed. "It's a long story," she said. "Just take my word for it. I'd rather not talk about her right now."

"Sure," he said, knowing he would definitely bring the issue of the "racist bitch" up again, but still following Valerie's wishes by choosing something else to talk about.

"You've been working out," Danny commented appreciatively.

"I'm always working out," she said with a wink. "I don't know whether to take aerobics or weightlifting next semester."

"I'm sure I'll be taking neither."

She giggled, walking up to his sitting form. "I just don't know if I wanna be a stripper or a body builder."

"You'd be amazing at both," he said, a little too quickly. Danny's cheeks burned as he looked up into her face. Her smile had him melting. Danny watched her full lips as her mouth formed the syllables of his name. He felt her strong hands on his shoulders.

"Danny," she said, and he was too dazed to reply. "I really am glad you showed up tonight."

Taking a chance, he lifted his hands to rest on her hips, the full curves of which flowed from her sculpted waist. She seemed to respond more than favorably. Slowly, she pushed him back and leaned down into a tentative kiss, which he welcomed wholeheartedly. It was the first time they had kissed in years.

"Valerie," he murmured against her. For being so good at handing his ass to him in a fight, she was incredibly soft. As the kiss deepened, he felt his insides fluttering with joy. When they parted, Danny was grinning dumbly.

"You know," Valerie say coyly. "you totally looked like you were gonna beat the crap out of that douchebag."

"Huh?" asked Danny, still in a euphoric stupor over how nice Valerie's tongue had felt.

"That guy who called Paulina and me bitches?"

"…oh yeah," he said, expression turning surly as he vividly remembered swimmer douche's bronze, oafish face. "Well, you know I coulda dropped him in two seconds flat."

Sporting a skeptical smirk, Valerie cocked her head to the side. "Oh really? You and your skinny ass?"

Danny tightened his arms around her as she sat simpering in his lap. "Hey, I'm not that skinny…I can actually get pretty buff."

He thought of the way his muscles expanded with ectoplasmic energy when he transformed and of how she was already very familiar with his more toned, spectral self, even if she didn't realize it.

"You can?" she asked, pinching a flab of his currently meager bicep. He yelped in pain.

Valerie challenged, "Then take the weight-lifting class with me in spring."

"Ouch, oucchhh, okay fine!" he appeased. Triumphantly grinning, she let go.

"Yeesh," he said, stroking his upper arm. "I guess I'll have to. Just for you."

"Mmhm," she pecked his cheek. Pulling back, she asked, "so what did you want to ask me?"

"What?"

"Sam said you wanted to ask me something?" she inquired. Danny blinked. Oh yeah, he remembered Sam's matchmaking tactics take two, in which she had sought to make up for the first disastrous barf-inducing technique. He figured it had pretty much worked already, but as he stared into Valerie's feline eyes, he decided that he should try to make this moment more romantically constructive. Kissing was nice, but not his end goal. He had told himself earlier that he wanted to do this the right way.

"Yeah," he said, in his most suave tone, "I was wondering if you'd let me take you out for sushi sometime?"

Valerie, for all her boisterous no-nonsense mannerisms, still seemed to be charmed silly by his question. Such a dork, such a dork, she said in her head, such a cute, skinny dork.

"I'd love that," she said, resting her forehead against his. "but um, before that…can we make out a little more?"

He chuckled lightly. "Of course."

"Yes!" she squealed in delight and pushed him onto his back, their lips crashing together once again.

So hot, so hot, were his thoughts, so hot and adorable and perfect. His hands roamed her body, stroking—but not squeezing—that ass he knew looked good in everything, whether it was jeans or mini-skirts or hyperdexterous spandex cat suits equipped with body armor. Danny wouldn't know how to react to the Red Huntress the next time they fought—would he shoot her with an ecto-beam or take her into his arms? He figured the second option would end with a mean backhand to the face, to which he would have to retaliate with an ecto-beam anyway, so he figured he'd avoid trying to hold her. He would just act normal. But really, what was "normal" with them these days? Sometimes he really wished Valerie knew his secret. He knew hers, obviously, even though she didn't know he knew. Danny had known since ninth grade, though granted, when he had initially found out they hadn't been so sweet on each other, but then again things changed. She had a deadly temper, sure, but she could also sometimes be really sweet—and he could be really brave, but still annoying. Though maybe in a cute way? He hoped, at least. No, he didn't hope at this point; he was sure that the Red Huntress had now become friendlier than she had ever been towards Danny Phantom, electric arrow-firing crossbow, laser pistols and all. He figured if they started dating seriously, showing Valerie that the two Danny's were one and the same might not be so difficult, plus he even had Sam's blessing—

Sam. His thought process halted. Mind shifting to his ex-girlfriend and best friend, Danny felt a strange sinking feeling in his chest. She had said she didn't like Valerie, but she had totally just been the best wingman—er, wingwoman—ever. Had she really done it without any regrets? Surely not. Danny remembered how much Sam had detested him and Valerie dating back in freshmen year of high school. She had of course been worried that dating one's sworn enemy would only end in disaster, which it kind of had for a short while, but it was also apparent to everyone that she had been wildly jealous. But he and Valerie had barely dated, and by senior year he and Sam were a full-fledged item. They had graduated as a couple and only been "officially broken up" for less than four months. Perhaps that should have been enough time to get over her, but he still really cared about Sam, _but_ Valerie…he liked her now. Again. Actually, he liked her _way_ more than he did in high school. But then again, Sam. But Valerie. But yeah of course, Sam…but good God, Valerie.

He broke the kiss. Valerie pouted.

"Danny?" she asked, looking down at his pensive expression. "How long have your eyes been open?"

"Hum?" he said, blinking fast and speaking before his brain could enact any filter. "Uh…not long, sorry, I was just thinking about Sam."

" _What?_ "

Shit.

"No, th-that's not what I meant!"

She removed herself from him, sliding off the bed in an instant.

"Are you kidding me?" Valerie asked, beyond livid.

"No, no, no," Danny stammered, jumping off the mattress. "I mean yes, I mean no—I'm not kidding, I didn't mean that. I misspoke!"

"How can you ask me out when you're still not over Sam?" she asked, voice trembling with anger. "And then _make-out_ with me on my bed while you're pretending I'm her! I mean, it's not as if we look alike!"

Danny pleaded with her. "I wasn't! Valerie, you have to believe me, I didn't mean to say that!"

"Oh my God I can't believe I was actually considering sharing an assorted sashimi bowl with you!"

He was about to get down on his knees. "Valerie, please—"

What would have turned into full-on begging was interrupted by a noise so loud and high-pitched it nearly broke the sound barrier, ear-splittingly ringing out over the Adele song that had been playing for the past minute. A wisp of frigid breath trailed out of his mouth. Valerie and Danny exchanged panicked glances.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

"I think it came from another bedroom," Valerie said, hurrying to the door. Unlocking it, she disappeared into the hallway. There was another long, blood-curdling scream.

"Valerie, hold up!" He bounded after her. Following her down the hall as she approached the source of the sound, they reached the end of the corridor. Two large, white double doors stared back at them.

"It's the president's chamber," stated Valerie.

Danny furrowed his brows. "Wait, you guys actually call it that?"

Ignoring him, she pushed past and threw open the doors, bursting through the entrance. They both stared into the room, rendered as still as statues by the sight before them. Penelope Boyle-Slyman lay sprawled out seductively on a chaise in the center of her executive suite, wearing nothing but a pink silk slip and Gucci shades. She was dead.

Blood poured from a gash splitting the side of her neck, pooling onto the waxed wood floor. The letters "Z P Z" were mutilated into her chest. At the foot of the chaise stood a quivering brunette in a floral maxi gown splattered with crimson, wielding a carving knife.

"Oh my God, _Caitlin?_ " yelled Valerie, horrified. "What did you do?"

Caitlin turned to look at them, her drooping, bloodshot eyes crazed with fear.

"Iwazen meh …" slurring her words, she collapsed onto the floor.

Exhaling another stream of ice breath, Danny's eyes zoomed around the room according to his ghost sense, but there was none to be detected whether visible or invisible. However, he knew he needed to do something. Glancing at Valerie, he began to speak, "Val, I need to g—"

"Yo, Danny, are you guys…" Tucker's voice and frantic footsteps sounded behind them. " _holy_ mother!"

"Jesus!" Sam shouted, appearing next to him.

Valerie cautiously approached Caitlin's body. Kneeling down, she placed two fingers in the soft hollow on the outside of her throat.

"She has a pulse," she informed, eyes gliding up to the open-mouthed, sunglasses-clad face of the now ex-Zeta president's corpse.

"She said," Valerie breathed. "'It wasn't me.'"

* * *

A/N: Well, I hoped you enjoyed the pilot of my Scream Queens-inspired Fanfiction! After playing around with the sorority idea after a couple one-shots, I've finally planned a multi-chapter story :) Think of it as an hour-long first episode. The oncoming chapters will be a bit shorter, since this first one took me forever to write!

-pb


	2. Burn Boy, Burn

[TW: violence, sexual situations, strong language, graphic imagery]

.:.

* * *

Hex Kittens

* * *

| Amity Park University Cafeteria – 6:15 P.M. |

The week after Penelope Boyle-Slyman's dead body had been discovered was one marked with considerably less mass panic than Danny would have expected a slashed-up, deceased sorority girl found on campus to cause. Of course, the party at Zeta house had ended as soon as the cops had shown up after Valerie dialed 9-1-1. Everyone had been instructed to evacuate the mansion, which had severely bummed the scores of people gathered in the presidential chamber to ogle Penelope's corpse. The other members of the late Penelope's cabinet had been made to exit in utter despair, Jennifer being the most vocal in her mourning, her shrieks of sadness as deafening as a banshee's wail. Caitlin's passed-out body had also been transported into a paramedic van to be driven to the hospital. The following day, Dean Boyle-Slyman had sent out a very pithy missive expressing his "deep sadness" at his daughter's "passing" and advice for the whole Amity U student body to "be vigilant and consult the Office of Student Affairs for counseling services."

Danny thought he seemed laughably unaffected by the fact that his only child had been slaughtered in cold blood. Moreover, there was now a rumor going around that the dead body had mysteriously disappeared from the morgue. Caitlin was currently languishing in police custody, adamant in her assertion that she had been framed. It had been assessed that her blood alcohol content had been .26 % the night the killing had occurred. The press had blown up around the event, but there were few articles that could supply generous detail about the arrested girl. However, the current slew of gossip at Amity conveyed that Caitlin remembered nothing of the grisly hour except blacking out in the backyard and coming to in the head Zeta's executive suite holding the alleged murder weapon. The shallow majority of Amity U were thoroughly convinced that she was a psychotic killer who had finally snapped under her tyrannical leader's reign, and Zeta wouldn't be having any more sick parties for the rest of the fall. Or maybe at least until midterms. Danny had scouted the area in and around the mansion unseen as soon as everyone was made to leave. Tucker and Sam, upset by the chilling find, had also dismissed themselves, which had left Valerie and the rest of the Zetas—including a comatose but less-tanked looking Paulina—standing grief-stricken outside the house. Despite looking everywhere he could, Danny had not detected any ghostly presence. He was sure his ghost sense had gone off before they had discovered the body, but if there had been a spirit inside it was no longer there.

In the seven days that had passed, Danny and Valerie had barely spoken. She had only communicated with him in their chemistry class, but it had been strictly about covalent bonds and oxidation—no mention of what had happened at the mansion. Danny had initially asked her if she was all right at the beginning of last Monday's class (after sending her some texts over the weekend which she hadn't replied to), but Valerie had only nodded stiffly and coldly acknowledged his offer to talk things out if needed. Sam had departed for Germany at the beginning of the week, making him promise to keep her updated on the situation at Amity U regularly, leaving him with conflicted romantic sentiments and feeling like he had neither a grip on his superhero duties or his love life.

"Are you gonna eat that mac and cheese?" Tucker asked, pointing at the mushy yellow pasta in the corner square of his lunch tray. Danny pushed the entire meal over to his friend. Despite agreeing to get dinner with Tucker at the cafeteria that night, he didn't have much of an appetite.

"Yo man, you all right?" he asked, scooping macaroni into his mouth.

Danny leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "No, I'm not all right. I can't stop thinking about Penelope's dead body."

His friend gave him a repulsed look. "You know dude, I know she was hot, but that's like… necrophilia. But hey, I won't judge your kinks."

"I'm not thinking about it because I'm attracted to it!" Danny snapped. "I'm thinking about how she died."

"What's there to think about?" asked Tucker. "That crazy Caitlin chick slit her throat and then got creative with the knife."

"I mean, that's what everyone at school is saying," Danny said. "but there hasn't been a trial yet, so it's not like she's been convicted. She's still being held by the police."

"It's way too soon for a trial," Tucker remarked, mouth full. "trust me, that girl is going to jail for murder in the first."

"She said she didn't do it."

"And you believe her?" his friend questioned, swallowing.

"Look, I told you that my ghost sense went off before Val and I found her dead in her room," Danny said.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Danny, we've been over this."

"She could have been possessed," he argued. "Seriously, think about it: my ghost sense went off before we found Caitlin in the room holding the knife. And then again when we were in the room. The ghost might have lingered for a bit after it exited her body, and then disappeared."

"You haven't detected any suspicious ghost activity anywhere on this campus for days," Tucker replied. "plus, everyone knows that out of all the Zeta chairs, Penelope treated Caitlin like crap the most. Girl was clinically depressed. She had the perfect motive for murder."

"You can't always blame these things on mental illness, Tucker," admonished Danny, "it's wrong. Also, what is up with the Dean not making more of a deal out of this?"

Tucker shrugged. "I told you, they probably weren't close."

"She was his _daughter,_ " said Danny. "she literally probably saw him every other day."

"Well, I don't know!" Tucker exclaimed. "If you wanna snoop some more, then snoop."

"I intend to," he said. "and I think that I'll require your technical know-how in assistance."

"What?" Tucker asked. "In what way?"

Danny stroked his chin. "Not sure yet, but I'm gonna need all the help I can get to figure this thing out."

"Whatever you say, dude." Having finished Danny's mac and cheese, Tucker moved onto his untouched slice of pot roast.

"Tuck?" inquired Danny.

"What?"

"You think Val is still mad at me?"

"Well," Tucker said matter-of-factly, "you did moan Sam's name while you and Valerie were doing it. I think she'll be angry for a while."

Danny closed his eyes, vexed by the incorrect statement. "I did not _moan_ Sam's name," he said. "and we were _not_ doing it."

Tucker took a gulp of his soda. "I mean, if I were you, I would just lie and say I did do it with her. 'Cus like, she's ridiculously fine. Have you seen her abs?"

Smirking, Danny replied smugly. "Yes. Up close. I've felt them too." He then dodged a punch from his friend.

"You just said you didn't smash!" Tucker said.

"I didn't," he insisted, grinning. "we just made out on her bed. Then I…ruined it by accidentally telling her I was thinking of Sam." As he finished his explanation, his gleeful expression disappeared and he was back to sulking.

"Man, you shoulda been smarter than that," Tucker said, shaking his head.

"I know, I know," Danny whined. "but I was thinking of how weird it was that Sam basically gave me the green light to get with Valerie. She volunteered to babysit a drunk sorority girl so I could go hang out with another sorority girl, who she happens to hate."

"I think 'hate' is a strong word," reasoned Tucker. "I mean, they seemed to have been finding common ground when they were talking in the bathroom. I swear dude, they coulda been one Zeta Phi-trashing comment away from kissing. I think that's primarily what causes chicks to make out at parties: bitching about other chicks they don't like."

It was Danny's turn to throw a punch, which Tucker didn't dodge.

"Woah, what was that for?" griped Tucker.

"I don't think being in a fraternity is good for you," Danny chastised.

"Oh please," he shrugged the comment off. "Like the Gamma Rho Brotherhood of Mathematical Engineering is as bad as any of the other dumb jock-filled fraternities at this university."

"Just because you guys aren't popular doesn't mean you're not just as bad," the other contested judiciously.

"Hey, I thought we were talking about you, Mr. Two-Girlfriends."

"I'm Mr. Zero Girlfriends," Danny said sadly. "and I'm gonna stay that way until I make things right with Valerie. I just wish she would talk to me about something other than chemistry. Anything. I wouldn't even mind her trying to blast my ass as Danny Phantom, but I haven't seen the Red Huntress doing her usual rounds around the city at all this past week."

"Her sorority president was just murdered," rationalized Tucker. "maybe's she's kind of freaked out and hasn't been in the mood."

"No, I know her," Danny said. "something like this would just motivate her to up her ghost hunting. Maybe she's just doing it on the D-L. Plus, it's not like she liked Penelope all that much."

"How do you know?"

"She told me she was a racist bitch," he answered. "right before we started making out."

"Wow, y'all really having heart-to-heart conversations now."

"Shut up, Tucker."

"Hey chill out," Tucker conciliated, "I'm just kidding. Anyway, I believe her. Zeta Phi's legacy has included frequent accusations of racism. Their crappy reputation is probably why people aren't really too sad about Penelope getting killed. And quite honestly, that sorority probably has a history of internal problems too. I wouldn't be surprised if this isn't the first instance of sister-on-sister violence."

Danny pondered his words. "Yeah…"

"But dude," he said. "I suggest you take a break from thinking about dead sorority girls to work out your still obvious feelings for Sam."

Guiltily, Danny avoided his knowing stare. "It's not like I wanna get back together with her. Things are just confusing right now. I just don't know if she's completely okay with me and Valerie, not that that's going so well now."

"Maybe you guys can talk it out tonight," suggested Tucker. "aren't you scheduled to Skype?"

Danny nodded. "At midnight. It'll be seven a.m. in Munich. Sam evidently has to get up early tomorrow to catch a train and says she'll make time to talk to me before she leaves. She's taking a weekend trip to Salzburg with some friends."

"She's the only person you'd stay up until twelve to Skype."

"Hey, it's not that late," said Danny. "Besides, its Friday."

"Correction then," he retorted. "she's the only one you'd spend a Friday night Skyping."

Danny let his mind wander. "I wonder what Valerie's doing tonight…"

Tucker gazed at him skeptically. "What? You thinking of taking her out on a date tonight and then blurting 'oh I just remembered I have to video call Sam' in the middle of it?"

He was not amused.

"Okay, okay," Tucker soothed, suppressing laughter. "I'm done. For real though, you should really try smoothing things over with Valerie. It'll probably be way harder than catching any ghost, but I'm telling you, underneath that tough exterior lies a warm, adoring girl. Just someone waiting for a certain guy to push all the right buttons...a skinny-thick wifey type—who could also beat you up in two seconds flat. But she probably really loves to cook or something."

"You think?" Danny asked, contemplating the alluring description.

"Yeah, why not?" said Tucker encouragingly. "But seriously, try not to say Sam's name again."

Sighing, Danny buried his face in his hands. " _Why_ did I say that? Why am I so bad at handling this?"

Tucker only shrugged again, replying "Iunno." Danny moved forward to place his arms on the table, dolefully resting his chin on top of them as he watched Tucker finish his meal.

* * *

| Frankenfurter Conservatory Rooftop – 10:00 PM |

Valerie surveyed the large area of the university campus before her, thinking that it looked menacing enough at night to have tens of ghosts who regularly loomed around its various dark twists and turns; setting out to find one specific ghost had her questioning where to start. Other than that, the buildings at Amity U were an architectural nightmare: a contrasting mix of shabby pre-war brick and characterless, concrete modernist rectangles that bordered on inhumanely totalitarian. A vicious revenge-hungry spirit of a dead sorority girl, or any ghost in general, stalking around within its walls would not be the most aesthetically atrocious thing about it.

She would not be deterred. She was going to track down the ghost of Felicity Joann Nixon, because it was what had turned Caitlin Fowler into a murderer. Valerie had to be honest; she didn't really care for the girl and she certainly wasn't in deep mourning for the vile person she had killed, but she knew that nothing was going to be solved by Caitlin's arrest. It had been seven days since Penelope's corpse had been discovered, and after a hefty amount of studying, Valerie speculated that what she originally thought was a weak, overdramatic attempt at spooking the pledges was the only thing that could explain the weirdness surrounding the death. Caitlin was no killer, and Valerie felt as if the madness was just beginning. That being said, she was feeling game for things to get a little mad. Valerie envisioned those still in residence at Zeta house in her mind. There were of course six pledges including her and Paulina, and then the cabinet members: Jennifer – the new Zeta president – with her irritatingly high ponytails and seemingly enormous lung capacity, Holly with her penchant for floral rompers and spitting in people's pumpkin spice lattes, and Gretchen, with her relentless worship of Jennifer Lawrence and anal bleaching. Any one of them could have been mistaken for a psychopath. However, she had a feeling that the true, unearthly perpetrator, i.e. Felicity Jo, was hiding out in a miserable hole somewhere at Amity U, plotting her next move. And Valerie was going to hunt her down before she struck again.

Valerie stood on top of the conservatory building, dressed in her full-body ghost hunting outfit which clung to her body like a second skin. Tinted a deep, dark red by which people knew her moniker—or at least she wished they did—the adaptable material felt amazing molded onto her muscled form. Valerie stretched her arms wide, twisting left to right in a couple preparatory stretches before she pulled down her spectroscope goggles. She hadn't been contracted to exterminate a ghost in the city for weeks, and hunting for sport had taken a backseat to all her new academic priorities and hell week as a Zeta pledge, but now she knew it was time for the Red Huntress to make her campus debut. Restless and overflowing with an accustomed zeal, Valerie brought her fingers to the black choker around her neck, touching the cross charm that hung at its center.

"Evening," a disembodied voice called out to her with familiar arrogance. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise? I was beginning to think that sorority girls had no time to slay ghosts."

Even under all that spandex, her flesh managed to bloom with goose bumps.

"Get lost," Valerie said, feigning annoyance. "I don't have time to play with you tonight."

"Aww." A humanoid form faded into view, suspended in the air to her right. As it became more opaque, she laid her bored eyes on a feathery white, almost vaporously textured head of hair, a high-cheek boned, waxy pallor not much darker in hue, and ashen flesh that contrasted with the black bodysuit which smoothly gloved the figure's body. "You realize I've been floating here for like three minutes, right?" he asked, green eyes luminescent with conceit.

"Yes," she responded curtly. "I just didn't care. Now shoo, will you?"

He glided towards her. "Aren't you gonna follow that up with a few ghost-zapping arrows?"

"I might if you keep bothering me."

Danny folded his arms and assumed a straightforward tone. "Look, Red," he said, "I know you think a ghost caused the murder of your Zeta house president, and you're out to track it down."

"How do you even know I'm in a sorority?" asked Valerie. "Have you been spying on me or something? Creep."

Furrowing his brows in mild irritation, he disregarded the remark. "Valerie—"

" _Don't_ ," she she shushed him. "say my name. What if someone hears you and learns who the Red Huntress really is?"

When she heard him chuckle, Valerie was amply miffed. "What are you laughing at?" she hissed.

"Sorry," he apologized rather insincerely. "it's just cute that you think you have a secret identity to protect from the public. As if the Red Huntress is a household name or something."

"I do," she seethed. "and it is. Well, I mean, it's getting there. You're just lucky you don't have a secret identity I could hold over you."

"Speaking of knowing secret identities," Danny tsk'ed, "I don't think your father would be too pleased with you poking your nose into mysterious homicides that reek of supernatural causes. I'm surprised he's still letting you stay at that mansion. I might just have to pass along knowledge of his daughter's prospective sleuthing."

Unintimidated by his threat, Valerie scoffed. "Boy please," she told him. "my daddy already knows that I can take care of myself. You should know he's been aware of my side-job as a ghost hunter for years now. And he doesn't trust you, anyway. Need I remind you that you're the reason he lost his job and I had to take up ghost hunting to help support our family all those years ago? Snitching on me would be pointless."

"Maybe," he said shiftily, masking the pang of guilt he felt at what she had said, "or maybe it could actually make him consider the fact that this hunt is what's pointless, since it's not technically a 'job.' No one hired you to do it. His little girl's just walking into a death trap for no reason. But really, even if you were getting paid for it, I still don't think he'd let you get involved."

She gave him a sour expression. "Why do you even care so much?"

"Well," answered Danny, "I only care because you've got everything all wrong, and frankly it would pain me to see you embarrass yourself by embarking on this wild, potentially hugely dangerous, goose chase."

"Excuse me?" Valerie inquired, doubtful. "What makes you say that?"

"The ghost isn't floating around in its ethereal form. You might be right about it framing Caitlin, but that's only because it possessed her," Danny explained like he was dropping a bomb, "And now it's possessed someone else."

She snorted. He crossed his arms, failing to see what was funny about his clearly accurate and groundbreaking analysis.

"Um, thanks for the tip," Valerie said haughtily. "but I've already ruled that lead out."

Danny blinked. "What?"

"For your information, ghost boy," she said, accessing a concealed compartment in her suit, which he was slightly impressed wasn't too tight to have functioning pockets, "I consulted some very reliable online sources about the nature of ghost possession, and what I found didn't really stack up with the situation." Valerie took out her iPhone. Pulling up her internet browser, she began scrolling.

He sighed. "Valerie, I don't think—"

" _After_ Googling it," she persisted boldly, "I came across the website of 'The Spiritual Research Foundation,' and they happen to have a very detailed guide to the symptoms of the malignant spirit-affected…"

"Oh my God."

"Foul breath, chapped lips, oily skin with rashes, a sticky layer of slime formed on the face and body of the possessed individual," Valerie listed each trait off smoothly. "recurring miscarriages, stillbirths—there's more, but honestly I can say that none of these things are at all apparent in anyone at the Zeta house. I mean, they have impeccable dental hygiene and their skin is all still flawless—overly-spray tanned—but flawless. And, I can safely report that there has been a whopping _zero_ number of miscarriages among both the remaining chairs and pledges. Thus, the ghost has to be hiding out in some horribly furnished dark corner at this college…or maybe in the greater Amity Park area…but I'd put my money on the college."

She gave him a self-satisfied smile. He was holding his forehead.

" _Valerie_ ," he scolded. "you can't just google 'ghost possession' and click on the first link you see!"

"Yeah well," she protested. "I also checked Wikipedia, and it said—"

"No, no," Danny interrupted. "just stop, okay? Ghost possession is serious business. You have to understand that detecting a ghost that has possessed a human is extremely difficult, even with advanced technology. It's definitely not as simple as checking if a person's lips are moisturized!"

"Ohhhh okay," Valerie said with a sarcastic wave of her hand. "then if you know so much about this crap, why don't you enlighten me, Phantom?"

"Wait okay, first of all," he said bemusedly. "I want to know why you think the ghost would automatically possess one of your sisters. Host-thirsty ghosts prey on weak-willed, emotionally debilitated people—that could literally be any girl at this university. Or guy. What makes you believe that the ghost is so closely related to Zeta?"

"Uh, hello? Did you not read the description of the body in the news?" Valerie answered as if it was the most elementary thing in the world. "It had the letters 'KPZ' carved into it. The ghost made one Zeta chair kill another Zeta chair, who was the freakin' president of Zeta house, and then carve the sorority's initials into the dead bitch's body!"

Danny quirked a curious eyebrow at her. "Yeah, but you must've had more of a theory behind thinking that the ghost would have then possessed one of the other sorority sisters specifically. Like it would have done it in accordance to an agenda or something."

She paused. Danny continued watching her expectantly. Turning her nose up, she succinctly responded: "I'm sick of talking to you. You're annoying."

"Valerie," his tone was deathly serious. "you know something. Tell me."

Valerie glared at him. "Why should I? I could fry your ghost butt without breaking a sweat. We're enemies, remember?"

He hovered less than two feet in front of her. "We've just come across a common goal."

"Hmph." She ignored him and put away her mobile device. Wordlessly, Valerie bent over to pick up her crossbow, which had been sitting on the rooftop next to her, and began loading it with arrows from the ammunition pack she had strapped to her back.

"Protecting the people of Amity Park from dangerous ghosts is my responsibility," Danny stated.

"Hunting ghosts is my thing too, obviously," said Valerie. "and I happen to think I do it way better than you."

"Oh yeah," he disparaged. "judging from how you gained all your expertise on ghost possession from a two-second web search, I'd say you have a certified Ph.D. in the subject."

"Shut up, Phantom."

Danny slumped. Exhausted from bantering, he tried to sound at his most genuine when he spoke next. "Valerie," he said. "You seem to know the context of this ghost's situation. I have a thorough comprehension of ghost behavior. We both want to figure out what the heck is going on. We could help each other."

She bit her lip, twirling an arrow in her hand. It obliterated her pride to fiddle nervously under his gaze like this, chewing on those words that just had to make so much damn sense. After almost half a minute, she breathed a heavy sigh and placed her crossbow in the sling hanging from her arm.

"Fine," she yielded, sliding her weapon behind her. Valerie started playing coyly with one of her long braids. She pushed up her goggles momentarily so he could see her doe-eyed expression. Slowly, her lips pursed in that way he liked, in the way they did when he knew she was contented with something. Danny drew closer, smiling and feeling exulted that he had successfully persuaded her.

"But don't think this means you can boss me around," she added abruptly, jabbing a finger into his chest, affectively halting his movement.

"Hey don't worry," he acceded, more suggestively than usual, "I won't. In fact, I'd be okay with you bossing _me_ around."

"Hmm," Valerie purred pensively. "Okay then…" Despite bringing chills with him wherever he went, Danny felt the air between them had grown quite warm.

Twisting a plait of thick black hair around her finger, she said, voice barely above a whisper, "I'll tell you everything."

* * *

| Bates Hall – 11:05 P.M. |

Being made intangible was something that generated contrasting sensations. It made one feel weightless, and yet there was still a distinct center of gravity within the body. Phasing through walls, for those who did not do it regularly, caused a giddiness in the pit of one's stomach and the barrier or object that was being phased through to feel like a smooth rush of water. For a split second, it passed around the person as if they were sealed wholly in thick poly sheeting. Valerie could feel the liquid-y force of the barely-there, subdued pressure around her, but there was also the force of moving forward so quickly, and then suddenly she was on the other side, tangible again. Perhaps the giddy feeling was also in part due to how she had been holding Danny's hand through the process.

Yanking herself out of his grip, she enabled the flashlight built into to her goggles and began looking around the room. Dean Boyle-Slyman's office was a mess. She and Danny began to meander about, careful not to disturb any dilapidated stacks of papers or books. His steps were diffident; it wasn't as though he had never broken into an authority figure's office for the sake of heroic investigation before, but he was feeling a little uneasy about their course of action for this particular case. Other than that, he was also still unnerved by the origin story Valerie had told him about the ghost of Felicity Joann Nixon, and how sorority girls could be so murderously coldblooded.

"And you're sure this is a good place to start?" he asked. "Why not look into the archives or records at Zeta house?"

"You already told me that we were gonna have zero luck in finding her actual ghost floating around somewhere on campus, so I figure there's no point in doing that. And I told you, I already looked through all the stored documents at the mansion on past sisters," Valerie replied, beginning to root around in Slyman's desk drawers. "the only thing I found related to Felicity's death was the coroner's report. It just stated exactly what Penelope said people were told: that Felicity got drunk and fell off her bedroom balcony."

"You didn't look through her personal file or anything?"

"I did. I found nothing except a basic profile listing her date of birth, high school, parents' names, stuff like that. Her application wasn't there."

"All of those are still things you could have looked into," Danny pointed out offhandedly. "most likely without breaking the law."

She gave him a tart smile. "Gee, thanks for the idea, Phantom," Valerie said. "but I'm more interested in finding out the truth about what happened that night at Zeta house twelve years ago."

Looking nonchalant, he replied, "Which you think you will find out here."

"Yes," she confirmed. "If I can just find—ahh!" After unsuccessfully digging through the bottom drawer, her gaze had flitted up to the back corner of the office, where the right curtain of a window partially shrouded something oblong and rectangular. Shutting the drawer, Valerie went towards the object, pushed the long curtain aside, and revealed a file cabinet. Danny followed, only slightly more committed to her plan.

"Also, boy scout," Valerie said, pulling open its top drawer. "you're helping me break the law."

"And you don't know how gravely ashamed I am currently feeling about it."

Stopping briefly, she gave him a piqued glance. "Was that a _pun?_ "

Danny paused, unblinking in the bright light emanating from her goggles, registering how he had punned without realizing it. _Nice one,_ he inwardly congratulated himself. Exteriorly, his face remained impassive. "Just find the file already."

"I don't need you to tell me what to do," she spat, returning to her search. His ghostly figure loomed next to hers.

"You told me you've been researching all week," he commented. "it didn't occur to you to do this earlier? Or literally do anything other than stalking your sisters to make sure slime wasn't oozing from their faces?"

Valerie frowned as she flicked through each tab. "Um, I can't walk through walls like you can, idiot. And I don't know if you realize this, but I'm a college student who also happens to be pledging the sorority from hell. I have other priorities to attend to in addition to hunting vengeful ghosts and regularly checking if a dead baby hasn't shown up in one of our fancyass toilets."

"Okay, I already said that website is totally unreliable," he told her with a roll of his glowing eyes. "and I would think that all Greek life activities would have been put on hold after the Zeta president was found with her throat slashed out in her bedroom."

"Yeah well," Valerie replied. "Zetas seem to get over things rather quickly. Jennifer MacDougal, once the second-sister-in-command, has assumed the position of president now that Penelope's gone. She might have been devastated last Friday night, but the next morning we still had our Saturday hot yoga session, which for pledges, meant doing the downward-facing dog in a tiny, hundred-and-five-degree room which could barely fit all of us."

"Man, your scholarship must be pretty frickin' good for you to endure being a Zeta."

Valerie, about to pull open the second drawer, stopped again to give him a peculiar stare. "How do you know I have a scholarship?"

Danny froze. "Um," he tried not to stutter. "that seems like the only reason you would put yourself through such torture."

Her eyes stayed locked onto him for a good two or three seconds before she went back to digging with a cautious turn of her head. He breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"I'm also putting up with this complete ass at school," she muttered, more to herself than him.

"Oh," Danny said apprehensively. "guy problems?"

He watched her jaw become taut as she ground her teeth together, no doubt thinking of him. Well, the other him—the bumbling dolt who couldn't even kiss a girl without completely turning it into a disaster, and who she had no idea was the him standing next to her.

"It's amazing how thoughtless and insensitive boys can be," Valerie said, her voice carrying anger but also a tinge of hurt.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Danny said, sad upon hearing her first mention of the fiasco that had occurred at the mansion (that hadn't involved a dead body) last Friday. Though, he was somewhat impressed with himself for effortlessly playing dumb about her personal life to throw off any lingering suspicions blurting out the scholarship comment might have imparted.

"I don't," she said in a clipped tone. "just an idiot who tries to ask me out to fill the void left by his ex-girlfriend."

He felt like he had just been stabbed. Shaking it off, he was consumed by a robust stroke of confidence. "Dude sounds super lame," Danny remarked casually, strangely feeling like he was actually talking about a different person whom he didn't know, "if I wanted to ask you out, I'd make sure to give you my entirely _undivided_ attention." He didn't know why he said that. He didn't know why he hadn't just tried to innocently rationalize his other's self's actions so she would maybe be a little less pissed off at him.

Valerie was beginning to think joining forces with Danny Phantom would not be worth it, since he kept interrupting her concentration like this. She looked towards him again, tossing a long braid over her shoulder. "Aha, look, Phantom," she said plainly. "I admit that you're sort of mysterious and charismatic in an if-Beetlejuice-and-Peter-Pan-had-a-demon-spawn sort of way, but I don't think I could actually go out with someone like you. I mean, I hunt your kind."

"You're not hunting me right now," he said, voice turning to a whisper against her ear as she resumed snooping. "and come on, you've obviously been flirting with me every time we've fought in the past few weeks."

Valerie's whole body began to tingle. She cleared her throat, swiftly pulling a thin manila folder out of the drawer below and swiping it in his direction, which forced some distance between their previously close forms.

"I found it," she said, completely ignoring the words he had said prior. Mildly disappointed, he reservedly accepted the file from her hand. The tab read "Zeta Phi Zeta House Party – 2003."

"Damn, we're getting into some ancient history," he quipped, noting the date.

"Come on, open it."

By the illumination of her flashlight, he did as Valerie ordered, opening the folder to find a single document, a small slip of paper, and a plastic bag that appeared to hold some type of withered plant and salt. "What the heck?" he inquired.

"What, what?" Valerie hurried to his side and glanced at the contents. "Is that…the symbol for Pisces? Oh my God, what if Felicity Jo is a Pisces? That would make _so_ much sense! Yeah, they totally always get everyone to think they're total pushovers before snapping and going bat shit crazy!"

Danny glared at her as she animatedly pointed to the slip of paper. "Valerie, that's not an astrological sign. It's some type of rune," he corrected. "also, I'm a Pisces."

She merely stared back at him, unflinching. "I stand by my statement."

"Anyway," Danny said. "there appears to be three names written on this document… 'Montgomery,' 'Berkowitz,' and 'Spelling.'"

He picked up the slip of paper and examined it in the light. The symbol was composed of four main lines. Three were drawn side by side, with the left and right being curved away from each other like reversed parentheses, and the center having a teardrop shape at its end while the fourth connected all of them.

"I'm not sure what this means," he said, scrutinizing the rune, "but it must have something to do with dark magic. Maybe the type used for summoning ghosts."

"Hold up," Valerie said. "Are you implying that Dean Slyman could have summoned the ghost of Felicity?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Anything's possible."

"But he's Penelope's dad!" she said incredulously. "why would he want to summon a demonic spirit to murder his own daughter?"

"I mean," Danny said, remembering Tucker's words. "maybe they weren't close."

"Okay, you're terrible," Valerie reproached him in disbelief.

"I'm just saying that this pretty strongly points to him having something to do with this. He hasn't exactly been wallowing in deep sorrow over his daughter's death," Danny defended. "and what is up with this plastic bag full of weeds and salt?"

"Maybe he likes to smoke, ugh who knows?" she said, taking out her phone. "Let's just snap a picture of these names and the symbol."

Valerie opened her camera and took a photo of the mysterious document and not-Pisces sign. As she was putting her device away, her ears perked up to the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway. Danny also became tense with alarm.

"Oh, shit," she swore, giving him a frantic look. "we have to put this stuff back!"

He nodded. Danny closed the folder and rushed to return it to the file cabinet. Valerie shut the drawer and disabled her light, after which he swiftly grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing?" she whispered sharply.

"Making us invisible," he replied, pulling her into the corner.

The footsteps became louder until they heard the door unlocking, Danny rendering them unseen. He hoped their visitor was only the night janitor. They watched the door open and saw the lights switch on, and in walk a large, cheerless man with large jowls and a cruel stare. He was dressed in an austere brown suit. _Crap, not the janitor_ , Danny thought. Behind him tailed a young woman with ginger hair and freckles, whom Valerie recognized as a student named Bethany Hammond from her statistics class.

"Umm, Dean Slyman?" Bethany inquired nervously. He walked up to his desk and turned to face her, leaning on it while he glowered at the girl.

"That's Dean _Boyle_ -Slyman," he said in a low voice. She bowed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Dean Boyle-Slyman, why did we have to leave your house? I really like it there."

"You know why, Ms. Hammond," he replied absentmindedly, looking at one of his silver cufflinks.

Bethany sulked, "I really don't like doing this."

"I would think you like being on academic probation even less."

Valerie covered her mouth with her free hand to suppress the sound of shock that was ready to escape. Danny was also horrorstricken, feeling an urge to make them visible again so he could intervene and prevent whatever was about to happen. They looked on as Dean Slyman reached over to retrieve the ruler sticking out from his desk organizer. Danny's grip on Valerie's wrist tightened.

Bethany shuffled her feet, looking at the floor. "Dean, I know that d-deep down, you're probably actually really bummed about your daughter getting murdered. I mean she was like super pretty and almost had no fat on her body. Maybe instead of doing this, y-you'd rather talk about—"

"Stop talking," he said, not letting her utter another feebly sympathetic word. "just come to me." At his command, Bethany looked totally dispirited, but she obeyed nevertheless. Valerie was nibbling on the inside of her cheek so intensely that she thought she might taste blood. She and Danny watched Dean Slyman hand Bethany the ruler, which she timidly accepted. "I don't understand why you can't just have sex with me after wine and dinner like a normal older man," Bethany grumbled. He ignored her complaint. To their surprise, he shifted around so that his back was turned to her, and then bent over the scattered desktop. Bethany raised the ruler.

"Um, okay," she said. "here I go…"

"Say your lines."

She swallowed hard. Valerie wanted to punch herself to make sure she wasn't imagining the scene before her. Bethany sighed. "You've been a bad boy, Mr. Boyle-Slyman."

Not able to restrain herself, Valerie made a sound—not out of revulsion, but out of hilarity. Danny gave her a harsh, rebuking tug. The Dean quickly pushed himself up from his submissive position.

"What was that?" he snapped.

"What was what?" Bethany asked, clueless.

"I heard a sound," Dean Slyman said, face becoming steely. Well, steelier. With that, he removed himself from the desk and walked around towards the corner in which Valerie and Danny were standing as if frozen in place. Panicking, Valerie rapidly began to yank on Danny's arm. The Dean was approaching fast, his darkened silhouette menacing as it drew near. Danny wasted no time in pressing backwards into the neighboring wall, and soon Valerie felt giddy again. They phased seamlessly out of the office and found themselves suspended in the chilly night air. Worried that he might catch sight of them in the window, Danny began moving them away from Bates Hall. He flew Valerie across the sky and down behind the Falcon Gymnasium. Once they were grounded again, and relieved that they were no longer able to see Dean Slyman and Bethany about to engage in goodness knows what, he let go of her hand, which had been shaking.

"Okay," Danny said, still reeling from shock. "what the f—"

"She's in my statistics class!" bemoaned Valerie in disgust. "Like, literally yesterday we were talking about standard deviations and box models, and now I find out that all this time I've been sitting next to someone who's been playing dominatrix to the flippin' _Dean_?"

He watched, deadpan as she squealed her "ew's" and acted generally distraught at what they had just witnessed.

"Are you good?" Danny asked after she had freaked out for about six seconds. She nodded hastily, finally regaining her composure.

"Now," he said. "we need to find out more about the names and symbol we saw in that file."

"Okay, but I told you before," Valerie responded. "if you're sure the ghost isn't hiding out anywhere on campus, and positive that I can't rely on those symptoms I read about online—"

"I am."

"—then I'm pretty sure that it's still in the body of one of the Zetas."

Unable to follow her logic, he asked, "Tell me again how you're so sure of that?"

"Well," she said. "If Felicity was murdered by her sorority chairs, what better way to seek revenge on Zeta in the present day than to possess the current cabinet members and make them kill each other off one by one?"

"That is pure, weak conjecture," assessed Danny. "you still can't prove that its not in the body of virtually anyone else on this campus. Or heck, even the entire city. Plus, what's your explanation for Dean Slyman summoning a vengeful spirit with that weird symbol we found? He could be the one possessed by Felicity. As we just saw, the guy is already clearly disturbed."

"I don't know, all right?" Valerie said, agitated by his superior sense of judgment, "I mean fine, the ghost could be anyone here, but its much easier to narrow people down by beginning with the Zeta's, isn't it? We have to start somewhere. Listen, I'm telling you…" She held her palms out for dramatic effect.

"The ghost of a docile college girl who was murdered by her sorority sisters returns to seek revenge, killing the current president, then kills the one who takes her place, until there's none of the original cabinet left. I mean, Caitlin would be last in line to get the presidency. The plan's got style. And irony. Ghosts like irony."

Danny tapped his chin. "True. But in case you forgot, after possessing one Zeta and making her kill another, the ghost left the killer's body and she got sent to jail. What was the point of having that happen if its goal was to utilize Caitlin for murder?"

Shrugging, Valerie replied, "I don't know. Maybe Felicity didn't want inhabit Caitlin's body anymore because she was too much of a weakling. Girl is like ninety pounds and has no backbone. The ghost coulda left to find a stronger person to possess—someone whose self-esteem and morale was juuust low enough to be prime for possession, but also wasn't such a full-on little bitch."

He was not convinced. "Valerie."

"My theory isn't free of holes, okay!" she said. "But you've got no other leads."

"I just found like five leads in that folder."

"Fine then," she shot back. "if we combine the names and weirdass symbol with _my_ clever speculations, I have a strong hunch that we'd really be on to something. Call it woman's intuition."

Valerie was giving him her most self-assured smile. Even though he wasn't sure of what to make of her "strong hunch," he had to admit her expression was cute.

"Ugh, whatever, I guess I'll just go along with it for now," he conceded to her, trying to act more annoyed than he really was. Pleased at his acquiescence, she stood, hands on her hips, basking in her own ego.

"Just one thing," he said. "if the ghost plans to kill the next president, doesn't that mean that Jennifer girl is the next victim?"

"Yep," she said.

"Then shouldn't you guys, I don't know, be guarding her at _all_ times?"

With yet another glorious flip of a braid, Valerie tilted her head to the side. "I mean, I've been monitoring stuff at the house for a week. Nothing's happened yet. And I told Jennifer my concerns and she just laughed in my face. Loudly. It was kind of like screeching."

"When ghosts kill," Danny said worryingly. "each death is usually worse than the last."

"Eh," Valerie replied. "I don't really like that hoe, anyway."

Just then, Danny and Valerie both jolted at the sound of distant shouting. It began as a muffled sound coming from inside the gym, but quickly increased in volume. Loudening into a terrifying, unhinged roar, it drew closer to the doors they were standing next to, along with an amplifying wave of heat. There was a violent thud against the doors, and subsequent pounding from behind. "Help!" a male voice screamed. "Someone, help me!"

Looking down, Danny saw that the doors had been changed shut. He gasped, shooting an ectobeam at the chains so that the doors could open. They jumped aside as something burst forth with a scorching flash of bright light and then whizzed past them.

"What is that?" yelled Valerie. Then, someone else appeared in the doorway. She was startled to see that it was one of the attendees of last Friday's party at Zeta house—Kyle, the guy Paulina had been flirting with while drunk.

"It's Brad! Brad's on fire!" Kyle shouted.

"Help!" The tall figure dashed out into the courtyard, manic as his whole body blazed brightly, engulfed with flames.

"Oh, damn it!" Danny had already taken off flying after him. The burning Brad was running in the direction of the stone fountain, but collapsed before he could reach it. Danny blasted cryokinetic energy at him, icing Brad over to extinguish the fire. Reaching his unmoving form, he landed and flipped the body over to look at its severely disfigured face. Valerie and Kyle quickly caught up to them.

"Holy shit," Valerie said, looking down at Brad in horror.

"Oh my god," wept Kyle. "he's dead. My homie Brad is friggin' dead!"

Heart racing, Danny stood up at once, turning to the other boy. "Kyle, call 9-1-1."

Kyle hurriedly took out his phone, but not before frenziedly informing Danny. "The killer's still in there! In the gym!"

Danny and Valerie exchanged glances. Grabbing her hand, he immediately flew them back towards the gym, entering it. Inside, they were stunned to see the entire pool filled with fire and rapidly spreading outwards. Wasting no time, he leapt into the air and generated a massive ice beam with both his hands, effectively putting it out and causing the whole pool area to be immersed with steam. As it subsided, Valerie watched as Danny floated back to the floor, looking immensely drained. She noticed a charred object sitting beside him. Bending over, Valerie picked the item up and held it in her hand, identifying it as the remains of a firecracker. She looked up, seeing the black railing of the second floor of the gym, and a hooded figure standing behind it. It wore a theatrical mask, one half painted pastel pink and the other pastel blue, with smiling lips the color of crimson.

"There, there, it's the ghost!" she exclaimed. Danny turned towards where she was gesturing, but Valerie had already fired four electric arrows at the rogue. It ran, narrowly avoiding them, and disappearing into the shadows.

"We need to go after it!" he said, though still wary. Suddenly, an upbeat melody started playing, echoing in the large space of the gymnasium. Danny blinked and looked over to Valerie, who seemed to be the source of the sound.

"Is that…" he asked. " _Beyoncé?_ "

Valerie produced her phone. Danny stared at her. "Really?"

"It's Paulina!" she said, looking down at the device. Answering the call, she began to speak. "P, I can't talk right—"

"You have to get to the house, now!" came Paulina's hushed, frantic voice. "It's the ghost of Felicity Jo! She's here and she's gonna kill us! We've tried to call both the campus security and the police, but for some reason none of our phones are able to get calls through to them!"

"What?" Valerie said, filling with dread, "Where in the house are you calling from?"

"The basement," she said, holding back a sob. "The rest of the pledges are with me—omigod, would you shut _up_ , Mallory? If you keep on hyperventilating the ghost will find us!"

"Paulina?"

"Va…" Paulina began to say her name, but trailed off. "I need you. President MacDougal's here with us, but she doesn't know what to do. I don't know where Holly or Gretchen are…oh my God, they could be dead already, omigod, omigod!"

"Keep cool, Paulina," Valerie said, "I know it's hard, but be strong! I'll be there soon, please just hold on, Paulina!"

Hurry! We're terrified!"

She could hear her crying. There was a click and then the dial tone. Valerie put her phone away, giving Danny a grim look. "We've got to get to Zeta house. The ghost is there."

"What?" asked Danny, confused. "We just saw the ghost! It's upstairs somewhere!"

"No," she said. "I just talked to Paulina. The ghost is at the mansion, and if we're not there soon, everyone is going to die!"

Appearing torn, Danny gazed into Valerie's eyes. "I don't think I can fly very fast the way I am now."

"Then I'll drive." With that, she reached into her pack and pulled out a thick, two-foot-long slab bearing panels of circuitry. Dropping it to the floor, he saw it expand. Within seconds it had transformed into a sleek rocket sled big enough to support, fortunately in this case, a pair of riders. She stepped on board, pulling him on with her. Her stance was solidified in place by holders that materialized around her feet. She wrapped his arms around her waist and he gulped when she said, "Hold on tight."

* * *

| Zeta Phi Zeta Mansion – 12:23 A.M. |

When Valerie and Danny had flown over the crowd amassed around the courtyard fountain, he had been glad to see that some security officers had shown up to calm down students panicking over Brad's seared corpse. Unfortunately, upon arriving at the Zeta's mansion, the two of them had found that the situation was nowhere near resolved. The front door was wide open, and the inside looked chaotic. Furniture was overturned and glass bowls once filled with gourmet bubblegum-flavored jellybeans had been dumped onto the carpet. If that wasn't enough, there also happened to be "ZETA WHORES WILL DIE" written on the living room wall in blood; it heavily clashed with the pink décor. However, they saw no ghost, or possessed killer, in sight.

The first thing they had done was go down to the basement, which was a sharp contrast to the rest of the mansion. It was an unfinished, grungy room. The five pledges and Jen had all squeezed into the crawl space and shut the door. After she had knocked and assured them that she wasn't the killer using a voice-changer, or being forced by the killer to draw them out so they could meet their gruesome demises, Paulina had opened the door and they had all wriggled out with great joy.

"Thank you so much for coming to save us Mr. Phantom!" Paulina gushed, throwing her arms around Danny once they had returned to the living area. He awkwardly patted her back. At this point, Valerie thought that to be the typical response to one of Paulina's hugs. Annoyed, she coughed. "Um, I was the one you called," she said. "And I flew 'Mr. Phantom' over to the house because he was too _tired_ to fly himself."

"I was tired because I had just used all my power to put out a huge fire!" he retorted.

"There was a fire?" asked Paulina, becoming panicked again.

"Yes," Valerie said, sidling next to her and whispering. "And that douche that you threw up on last Friday got burned alive."

" _What?_ "

"Will you shut up?" Jen yapped, silencing Paulina. "Look, moron, I don't care about any stupid fire or the fact that you seem to have this hideously dressed Catwoman-knockoff and her partner on speed dial—there is a freaking _ghost_ in this house, and it's trying to kill me! So why don't you two Ghostbusters stop being useless and catch it!" Jen started to bawl, tears running down her bronzed cheeks. "Unlike Penelope, I'm way too beautiful to die!"

Ignoring her insults, though slightly vindicated that Jen was now clearly overwrought about everything Valerie had previously warned her about, she narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute," she said. "Paulina, you said you didn't know where Holly or Gretchen were, right?"

Paulina nodded. One pledge named Ella, a strawberry blonde in mauve leggings, spoke. "They're at their boyfriends' places for tonight."

"Or so they said," Valerie commented darkly. She looked at Danny. "One of them could be possessed by Felicity."

"Oh my God," Jen sniffed. "I bet it's Gretchen! You know what people say—you can't ever trust a bitch named Gretchen!"

"No one says that," Danny jibed.

Jen gave him a dirty look. "Yes they do, you ghost freak."

"Ugh, can we please focus?" asked Valerie, rubbing her temple. "Paulina, before you girls went down to hide in the basement, what happened?"

Her friend shivered, remembering the events that had transpired. "The pledges and I were coming back from hanging out at Theta Chi because some of the guys there were getting super pushy, and we found President MacDougal screaming in the living room. She was staring at the message written in blood on the wall." Paulina motioned towards the red capital letters above them. "Then," she continued. "the lights started flickering and we smelled this awful smell, and then—"

"And then we saw the ghost at the top of the stairs!" Jen finished, apparently unable to stand someone other than her talking for so long. "It came for us with a spear!"

"A spear?" inquired Valerie.

"Yes, a freaking spear!" Jen snarled. "But like, it was kind of dumb because it practically fell down the stairs. Then _I_ threw a bowl of jelly beans at its boobs, which it totally didn't see coming. I think the mask it was wearing was obscuring its vision or something."

"And then we ran downstairs!" said Mallory. The rest of the pledges nodded briskly.

"Don't interrupt me, bitch," snapped the Zeta president. Mallory hid behind Paulina in fear.

"It was wearing a mask," Valerie questioned, "that was half pink and half blue with red lips?"

"Uh, yeah," Jen said. "Zeta colors, obviously. Because it's the freaking ghost of Felicity Jo back to take revenge on ZPZ! And I'm next!" She resumed her crying.

Danny felt a headache coming on as she sobbed. What's worse, his ghost sense hadn't gone off since they had entered the mansion, so he had no idea where to look for any shadowy masked figure that may or may have not still been on the premises. "Okay, just calm down," he said. "Think hard guys. Where in the house do you think Felicity's ghost could have gone to?"

"There!" screamed Ella, pointing. Everyone looked up to see the perpetually smiling, pink-and-blue visage of the rogue in question standing in the entrance of hallway on the other side of the room, cloaked in black.

"It's Gretchen!" Jen shrieked. "Kill that bitch! Kill her now! Before she gets me, please!"

The figure pulled something out of its cloak. Valerie's eyes widened when it brandished a medium photon blaster—one of her own ghost hunting weapons.

"It has one of my guns!" she yelled. Danny had already soared into midair. The figure began shooting fluorescent rays of violent, being pushed back by the force of the kick. The beams went every which way, Danny dodging the ones that managed to stray in his direction, and ricocheted off the windows, rebounding destructively into the walls around all of them. Valerie and the other girls ducked behind the sofa to avoid falling debris.

"What the heck?" Danny said, wondering if this ghost's aim really was that terrible, or perhaps if it was Gretchen or whoever under the mask that was such a bad shot and Felicity had taken on too much of their traits already. Recovering, the figure ran towards the girls. Danny's hand lit up with ectoplasmic energy. Watching him, Valerie stood up quickly and threw her crossbow aside. He cast a beam in the ghost's direction, but Valerie ran forward and tackled the rogue to the ground, making him miss and knocking the gun from its hand. She was overwhelmed with a rancid odor.

"Red, what the hell did you do that for?" he asked angrily.

"Urghh," she said, wrestling with the ghost. "ugghh—if Felicity really is possessing Gretchen, then—mmfh—you—mfh—can't just fry her body with an ectobeam!"

"Ohh, so when I attack the ghost, it's wrong," he proclaimed in exasperation. "but when _you_ shoot it with arrows, it's A-okay!"

Valerie continued to grapple with the figure, struggling to reach for its mask. "I—ergh—just need—mfh—to know who you are for sure!"

"Stop trying to freaking pin it into submission, John Cena!" ordered Jen shrilly, standing up. "Just kill it with your special ghost-exterminating powers already! Er, I mean kill it again! I don't care if you disfigure Gretchen in the process—she already has a bad nose job!"

She and the pledges watched Valerie and the rogue writhe and roll around on the floor. Danny was sweating profusely. He actually wanted to remedy the situation in a way similar to Jen's suggestion—though he would try his hardest not to fatally harm the innocent girl's body—but he couldn't a get a clear shot in with Valerie in such close proximity to the ghost.

"Ooph!" Valerie was propelled backward. Triumphant, she saw that the mask was in her right hand. However, when her gaze shifted over to the left one, she screamed.

" _Holy shit,_ " Danny breathed. Jen and the pledges joined their sister in screaming, their voices in unison piercing his eardrums. Valerie's fingers were gripped around the rogue's wrist, which was attached to its severed, pasty arm, exhibiting ripped, decaying tendons and muscles. Frightened beyond belief, she tossed the arm as far away from her as she could. Valerie looked up to see the identity of the figure, which was on its knees, and found herself staring into the colorless, sallow face of Penelope Boyle-Slyman.

"Oh my GOD! It's Penelope!" screamed Jen. "Penelope's come back to life to kill me for saying I was prettier than her! I didn't mean it, Madame President, I promise! You're even skinnier than before!"

"Even though she's dead," one of the pledges cried hysterically, "she still looks great!"

The risen ex-President opened her mouth, a miserably incoherent, guttural noise coming forth along with a gust of rotten breath.

"She's been reanimated with dark magic!" Danny yelled down to Valerie. "That's why she was acting so dumb! Zombies are idiots!"

Valerie watched Penelope's corpse clumsily get to her feet and begin to stalk towards her. With her remaining arm, she pulled something foot-long, silver, and pointed out from her cloak.

"It's the spear!" exclaimed Jen.

"Watch out, Huntress!" warned Paulina.

Thinking she was going to throw it at her, Valerie was ready to tackle her again, but was surprised when she saw Penelope raise it in the direction of someone else. Thinking fast, Valerie ran back towards the sofa, the projectile hurling at the overturned piece of furniture, and the Zeta House President frozen with fear behind it as it darted straight for her. Valerie jumped across, shielding the head sister with her own body and catching the projectile in her shoulder. Falling onto the carpet and tumbling into a crouching position, Valerie did not delay in rising again, pulling the small javelin from where it had been lodged. Sprinting at Penelope, she knocked her back onto the ground and proceeded to stab her in the center of her decomposing forehead with the "spear," or as she came to realize as—a knitting needle.

"And you better stay dead," she said, out of breath as she fell back onto her backside, wiping splattered blood from her face. "bitch."

Danny lowered himself to the ground beside her. Jen and the pledges cheered as they rushed to surround Valerie, Paulina kneeling to embrace her.

"Ouch," said Valerie, wincing. "Paulina, you're squeezing too hard."

" _¡_ _Ay_ _Dios mío!_ " she said, "That was amazing, Huntress."

"I have, like, never seen anything as awesome as what you just did!" Ella gushed.

"You're amazing, Red Huntress!" added Mallory. Valerie reveled in hearing her full title spoken with such admiration.

"Ew, you're all bloody," Jen remarked rudely, breaking the string of compliments and instantly dampening the mood. Paulina gave her venomous glare.

"Why don't you act more grateful, _puta?_ " she said. "She just saved your life."

"Yeah," Valerie laughed, holding up the zombie-slaying weapon. "from this 'spear.'"

Jen put her hands on her hips indignantly. "Hey, it looked like a spear to me, okay?" she said, face softening as she looked at Valerie's punctured shoulder. "Um…yeah. Thanks for that, though."

Danny crossed his arms at her, visibly showing contempt for her weak attempt at gratitude.

"Um," offer Jen lamely in consolation. "Your outfit isn't actually that hideous."

"Gee, thanks for the apology," said Valerie dully as Danny bent down to tend to her injury. He saw that its bleeding had already minimized, most likely due to the dynamic and healing nature of Valerie's suit.

"Please, I'm just being nice" Jen scoffed. "It's not an apology. I apologize for nothing."

* * *

It was amazing how much suspicion a well-articulated alibi from your bestie could deflect. Paulina, in contrast to most people's opinions of her, had long been Valerie's right-hand woman when it came to coming up with excuses for her many absences. Although, it helped that the denizens of Amity Park were largely unconcerned with the secret identity of the Red Huntress, which was something she would never admit to stupid dumb jerkface Danny Phantom. And it also helped that the residents of Zeta house, besides her and Paulina, weren't very smart. However, Valerie still liked to keep that information under wraps. Once she had bid the Zeta's and Danny farewell after he had patched her up, the Red Huntress had "left" the mansion and reappeared at Zeta House about fifteen minutes later as the very surprised, very normal and forgettable college student, Valerie Gray, dressed in civilian clothing. Of course, Jen had immediately began interrogating her with questions—suspicious that she might have been involved with sicking a zombie on her—but Paulina had provided a firm defense for her friend, insisting that Valerie had been at the library. "You can even call the reference desk lady," she had fabricated. "Valerie works for her as an aide." But everyone knew that Jen would do no such thing because she could never care about anything enough to call a librarian, and the Zeta president had promptly dropped the subject and returned her suspicions to Gretchen and Holly. Valerie was also considering them with suspicion now, albeit in a less vindictive way.

On another note, she was fairly proud that the material her dark-red bodysuit consisted of was not only stylish (despite what certain head Zeta's might think) but also incredibly tough. It was called "hyperdexterous" spandex for a reason. Not only was it ultra-aerodynamic, but it pretty much endured all sorts of physical feats Valerie executed in battle, and also helped diminish the severity of wounds she acquired. Of course, when something hurt like a mother it hurt like a mother, but that was usually when she had been really banged up; small injuries like a knitting needling in her shoulder could be treated rather easily. The pain had been dull from the start—and she didn't even have to take any sweet meds for that to happen—and the damage was small because of how her suit's material had defended her. Danny had also given her some minor freeze-healing treatment and bandaged her nicely. She had hid the affliction under a pink and blue Zeta Phi Zeta sweater when she had showed back up at the mansion.

When Valerie had inconspicuously retrieved the photon blaster that the zombie had dropped and deposited it in her backpack, she was unnerved by questions of how it had been able to get its hands on something from her arsenal. Moreover, both she and Danny had come to the distressing conclusion that the Zeta's phones had all been messed with it, whether through hacking or hexing, and that was why they hadn't been able to call for police assistance or campus security. Valerie's phone, however, was able to get through to the cops. They had once again shown up to Zeta house to take away the same, now further mutilated, dead body, along with its severed arm. Danny had tried to explain the technicalities of the whole "zombie" situation to them, but they just told him the force would take his word for it like always. Campus security had also been present, and their parting advice was for the girls to put the entire mansion on lockdown for the night. This meant that they would have to switch their house security system to its most extreme setting, which apparently protected against home invaders of both the living and un-living persuasion. Dubious of the quality of said security system, Danny had elected to stay in the mansion over night so he could make sure nothing or no one, was getting in that house. He was positive that he had sensed no ethereal ghost activity from within the house before they had entered lockdown mode, but after everything they had been through that night, he felt nervous just leaving the Zeta's by themselves.

Jen had initially been furious at the thought of a "paleass ghost creep" guarding them until sun-up, but Valerie had promised her that he could be trusted and would sleep on the kitchen counter away from all the bedrooms, much to Danny's displeasure. Since none of the girls cooked, it was a vacant space they could afford to offer up for the night. After a moment's consideration, Jen had grudgingly given her permission. So now Danny sat alone on the countertop, next to an unused cutting board and a stack of wine coasters with phrases written in pink cursive like "When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading." A fuzzy yellow blanket decorated with daisies lay across his knees. He looked at the oven clock. It was 2:45 A.M. Cursing to himself, he remembered that he had completely forgotten about his promise to Skype Sam at midnight. Sighing, he hoped that putting out pool fires and battling undead sorority girls was a good excuse for forgetfulness.

Valerie appeared in the entryway, wearing a black tank top and some ruffled pajama shorts. She had just taken a shower. Her hair was free of its dual-braids and splayed around her face in semi-kinky curls.

"Hey there," she said, ambling over with a smile. "you look cozy."

"Ha," he replied, leaning back on his hands. "how's the shoulder?"

"Fine," Valerie said. "thanks again for that impromptu cryo therapy."

"No prob…I take it everyone is asleep?"

She shook her head, opening a cupboard to retrieve a glass. "One isn't. Jen's in the downstairs bath taking a botanical herbal bubble bath," replied Valerie. "she said it was the only thing that would help soothe her nerves. And she refuses to use the upstairs bathroom now because she swears it still reeks of Paulina's throw-up." Getting a carton of milk from the fridge, she added, "my girl sorta had a rough night last weekend."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "She sorta had a rough night this weekend too," he said.

"That's definitely true. But I'd say puking her brains out was probably worse, honestly."

"Good thing you were here to save her and everyone else, Red Huntress."

"Stop," she said, lightly hitting him in the arm. He took it willingly, relishing in the playful tone of her voice. After pouring herself a drink, she sat next to him on the counter. She took a sip and then sighed. "Wow, I can't believe I'm having a glass of milk in my pajamas while sitting next to my archenemy," Valerie said. "who happens to still be in full costume with a fuzzy yellow blanket in his lap."

Danny shrugged. "Stranger things have happened." He watched her adorably wipe the white mustache from her upper lip.

"I guess," she said, looking uncharacteristically bashful. "you're feeling better, right?"

"Better from what?"

She nervously twiddled with one of her black ringlets. "You were really tired after you put out that fire. I was wondering if you're feeling better now…I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier, I was just so worried about Paulina and the others, and then we had to fight that zombie—"

"Valerie," Danny said in a calming voice. "It's fine. I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Their gazes met. "Okay. I'm glad," she said. "It was pretty amazing though—the way you put out that fire."

His ego brimmed at the rare compliment, but Danny just replied coolly. "Oh you know, that was just standard hero stuff."

"Uh huh," she said. "and I guess even big shot heroes aren't above snuggling up in a plush Vera Bradley throw cover." Valerie looked curiously at the blanket over his knees, asking, "does that even work? I mean, aren't ghosts like permanently cold or something?"

He stroked the yellow material, saying, "I mean, it's still really soft."

Valerie laughed. "You're ridiculous."

Danny enjoyed the musical sound of her laughter, seeing her take another sip of milk before placing the glass away from her on the countertop.

"Valerie," he said, turning solemn, "before the police took Penelope's body away, I examined it and confirmed my suspicions. It's definitely witchcraft that was used to animate her corpse. And we found that rune and bag of herbs in Dean Slyman's office—I have no doubt that he has something to do with all of this. I mean, I don't know about what happened with the masked figure we saw at the pool, but that's just another unanswered—"

"Phantom, Phantom," she cut in with a wave of her hand, "chill, okay? It's like three a.m. We've had a really long night, and whatever new developments that have arisen can be discussed tomorrow. All right?"

"But Val—"

"We saw the Dean about to get ruler-spanked by a coed," Valerie said, hazel-green eyes boring into him. "then a swimmer douchebag run out into the courtyard lit up like a roman candle. I killed a _zombie_ tonight, Phantom. I plunged a knitting needle into its forehead."

Danny stared at her, mesmerized. "Yeah…"

"Shit got, _so_ crazy," she said, her face so close that he could see, as if in hyper definition, the smooth texture of her umber skin, which even in the dim lighting was radiant with warm clay undertones. Valerie's cheeks were flushed in retrospective wonder at the events of the past few hours, feeling high as she stared into Danny's penetrating eyes. They were shining the brightest green she had seen all night. Danny and Valerie both listened to the analog clock hung on the wall, that no one knew how to read, tick agonizingly slow as he closed the space between them.

Kissing Danny Phantom was not like kissing Danny Fenton, for myriad reasons. Danny Fenton, for one, did not initiate a kiss. Danny Phantom, however, not only made the first move, but kissed so powerfully that Valerie was thrust onto her back by the electrifying spark of his lips. Where as she had felt like the one controlling everything with Danny Fenton, she now felt like putty in Danny Phantom's hands, her whole body enveloped in hot and cold sensations. She felt the familiar weightless feeling of walking through walls as his lips trailed down to her neck, except this time the feeling was vastly augmented. It made her fingers and toes curl with an almost maddening elation. No longer did she feel like the leader, the one calling the shots; it was wonderful and frightening.

He felt her squirming within his grasp on her wrists. Danny had them pinned down on either side of her head. Breaking away, he said, breathlessly, "Oh, man."

Completely dazed, Valerie could only say, "Wow."

His face erupted into embarrassment and concern at what he had done. "God, Valerie, I didn't mean to—I'm so sorry! I just, I just lost control!" He tried to pull away, but she instinctively threw her arms around his neck.

"No, wait!" she said. He looked down, confused, as she shyly contemplated her response.

"You're like," she said, voice impossibly girlish. "a really good kisser."

Speechless, he stared at her for a moment, unable to process just how potent his lips had felt to her. Then, gradually, his concern morphed into smug gratification.

"Oh yeah?" he said, lowering himself back to her jaw. Her head was spinning. If it had been that morning, she would have reviled at the thought of Danny Phantom making such a move on her, regardless of how sexually-charged their recent fights had been—she had even told him earlier that evening that she couldn't ever date him because of their respective statuses as ghost hunter and ghost. However, all the chaos they had experienced together had evidently changed her mindset.

"You know," she said sultrily, "I've always wondered if this suit you wear is actually part of your body."

"I can generate it at will," he replied. "and un-generate parts of it. It's pretty dope."

Furthermore, if she was being honest with herself, kissing him had been an amazing way to let out her frustrations about the other Danny, the one who had so shamelessly disrespected her last weekend. Who could imagine the resulting, mind-blowing effect if only she knew that the two guys were one in the same? Danny's mind was also a cyclone of thoughts, in which which he tried to funnel and juxtapose his self-esteem rocketing back up from loserdom with the perturbed understanding that Valerie still believed Danny Phantom to be totally different from Danny Fenton. Had she really forgotten about his civilian self so easily? If he was really that worried, he didn't know why he kept kissing her.

"Mmm," he said between pecks on her cheek. "don't you have a guy you're seeing or something?"

She ran her hands up and down his strong chest. "No," she said, and half of him was crushed at her answer. "You were right: I have been flirting with you for a while. I want you. Now."

Hearing the words "You were right" and "I want you" had his ego on a cosmic level. While one part of him felt crestfallen, another part of him was swelling with a beastly pride, which made him feel amazingly dangerous. He smirked against her ear, and licentious desire consumed her at the sound of his velvety words: "You ever gone to third base with a ghost before?"

Valerie didn't care about her crush on Danny Fenton. She didn't care about how much it had hurt to hear him say Sam's name after they had made out on her bed. She didn't care about all the texts he had sent her or the weakass "I'm here if you wanna talk" he had given her the Monday after the last nightmarish weekend at Zeta house. And she didn't care that Danny Phantom was her nemesis or arch rival or whatever; she just cared about doing crazy things during these crazy times. Danny Phantom didn't seem to care about anything besides his body on top of hers, the fuzzy yellow blanket sandwiched between them. He figured that later, he'd be more astounded at the fact that she had managed to curve him and let him get it at the same time.

"Hold on."

Danny felt her firm hands push him off her. Glancing at her questioningly, he was about to ask what was wrong when she said: "I have to pee."

He chuckled. "Okay."

"Why don't you try un-generating some of that suit while I'm gone," she said, winking. With that, Valerie hopped off the counter and trotted out into the hallway, leaving him very turned-on in her wake. An impish buoyancy in her step, she found herself wickedly anticipating how his torso, without the cover of his black suit, would feel against hers. She theorized it might feel like searing, white heat similar to what she thought radiated from his lustrously translucent hair. But it would be exponentially more intense, overriding her senses with ice and fire and everything she presently wanted from him. He too was aching to feel her curves and sculpted muscle beneath his own flexing brawn, her teeth around his bottom lip and her deep aura of craving; together they would collide in colors, spirits, and, holy f#%& it would be some inconceivably hot kitchen sex, like damn, thought Danny. They were drooling over each other in tandem despite being temporarily apart during her potty break.

Valerie approached the bathroom door at the end of the corridor, immediately peeved to see light under it.

"This girl is seriously still taking a bath?" she whispered to herself. As she came closer, she began to feel the carpet under her feet dampen. When she was standing in front of the door, she realized the delicate Berber was entirely soaked. Valerie knocked on the door tentatively.

"Prez?" she inquired, rapping against the wood again. When there was no answer, she jiggled the knob, finding that the door was unlocked. Opening it, Valerie saw that the bathroom had been flooded with water, dispersed with glittery suds, which was still pouring out from the freestanding, cast iron enameled tub. Inside the tub lay Jennifer MacDougal, asphyxiated to death with a lacy demi-cup bra around her neck. And, just like her precedent, the letters "K P Z" had been carved into her chest.

Valerie screamed.

On the bathroom mirror, spelled out in blood, was the phrase "TOLD YOU SO."

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the second chapter/episode ^_^ I guess I lied; this one is even longer than the last! And yes, I've taken some creative liberties with the Red Huntress's costume design, along with Danny Phantom's! I was inspired to write this after seeing some tumblr fanart of them in different styles, and kept those in mind as I was devising this story. Sigh...I would be ecstatic if any of my humble fics ever received a fan illustration. For now, I would love LOVE more reviews! Thanks to the lovely people who dropped me a line on my last update and previous fics in general-it really motivates me to keep writing fanfic!

-pb


	3. Oh, killjoy

**[TW: graphic imagery, sexual situations, strong language]**

.:.

* * *

Hex Kittens

* * *

| Zeta Phi Zeta Mansion: 9:15 A.M.|

Valerie Gray had figured out her problem.

She was just too kind.

And it rarely paid off, honestly.

Standing in her full-body mirror, she unfastened one of the straps of her denim overalls, letting it drop down her back. Gazing at her reflection, she admired her perfectly gelled down baby hairs, along with the evenly-formed twin buns atop her head. Her long, uncollected hair fell around her face in fine, bouncy coils. The injury on her shoulder was barely visible anymore, and she was free to walk about today in a sleek, black sports bra. Sliding into a pair of white sneakers, she grabbed her backpack and left the suite she no longer shared, securely locking it behind her like she always did. Walking down one of the many stark white hallways of the mansion, hallways that now only saw a couple passing Zeta sisters at time, she fingered the tiny aluminum-wrapped object hidden in the front pocket of her outfit. Once she reached the living room, which was currently going through various ceiling and wall repairs, Valerie saw Paulina checking her makeup in her compact, books half-spilling from the knapsack at her feet. Her friend's raven mane was pin straight, and combed down through a magenta bandana, voluminous victory rolls ironed up over her forehead and temples. The silver sorority necklace that all the Zetas, except Valerie, wore glimmered around her neck from the sunlight pouring in from the tall windows

"Hey girl," Valerie greeted her. "I love your hair."

"Thanks," Paulina said, dexterously adjusting the falsie glued on her left lash line. When she made sure it was in place, she snapped her compact shut and reached down to gather her things. After she put away the small item and slung her bag around her shoulder, she turned to Valerie and gasped, "Oh my god, I love _your_ hair!"

"Laid flawlessly, right?" she said proudly.

"And our earrings match!" Paulina proclaimed happily, pointing back and forth from the chunky gold hoops that both hung from their lobes.

"We're just both killing it today, I guess," replied Valerie, smiling.

"Tucker's taking me to putt putt after our philosophy class today," she informed cheerfully. "what's your excuse?"

Valerie blinked. "Wait, what? Are you two like, going out now?"

Paulina tightened the plaid shirt knotted around her waist. "I meeaaan, it's not like we're dating or anything. Yet. It may not be Lambda Chi, but he's still in a fraternity." There was a playful glint in her eye during the last word.

"Are you serious, P?" asked Valerie. "You said he was a nerd!"

She avoided her stare. "Well, he is…but he's also really nice. And smart. And um, I think he's cute now, okay? He's much nicer than those douches at Lambda Chi, anyway."

Valerie laughed. "Whatever you say. He just better not do anything stupid on or off the golf course, or he'll have to answer to me. You're wearing daisy dukes, so he most likely won't be focused on the game."

Pauline beamed. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, answer me—what's your excuse? Da-an-ny Fenton?"

She scowled. "Why would I get dressed up for that idiot?" huffed Valerie. "I told you before, I'm so over him."

"Uh huh," her friend replied, grinning. "is that because you've started hooking up with the other Danny now? The cooler one?"

Blushing, Valerie brushed past Paulina and headed for the front doors. "Come on P, let's get going or we'll be late for calc."

Paulina scurried after, pulling on her white tank top up so it fully covered the hot pink bra underneath, giggling. "Nothing wrong with getting dressed up for a boy, Val. Living _or_ unliving."

She and Valerie were of only four pledges left, plus a sorority cabinet that consisted of two people. The other pledges, named Whitney and Paige, or Becky and Mary Ann, or something and something—Valerie couldn't be bothered to remember, and she had shared a room with one of them—had been pulled out of school by their parents. They were convinced that Amity Park University was no longer a safe place for their daughters. It was a completely understandable decision, considering two of their sorority sisters had been brutally murdered and another was still in jail, along with some random dumbass swimmer dude being burned alive. However, while parents were abhorred by the recent violent events, Dean Slyman had only sent out another advisory email even briefer than the one he had sent out "memorializing" his own daughter's death. Although, on the upside, and Valerie knew one's standards must be astonishingly low for this to be considered an upside, Gretchen Putnam was the new Zeta house president; since Penelope and Jen had both been killed, she was deathly afraid of continuing any of the traditional hazing practices or executively mandating any sorority activities at all. She had wondered why she hadn't just rejected the position if she was that frightened, but she figured that despite Gretchen's many fears, none of them could hold her back from accepting the rank of top Zeta bitch. Moreover, she and Holly had immediately been under Valerie's suspicion after the home invasion that past weekend. But, today was Monday, and she had finished mulling over everything, forming a strong hunch that the status of possessed belonged to someone else. Also, she was relieved that there would be no more hellish hot yoga sessions or games of cocaine vs. dildo to play on the weekends.

Jennifer MacDougal had maybe been a microscopic fraction more tolerable than Penelope Boyle-Slyman, but Valerie had stabbed the latter's reanimated corpse in the forehead thinking that she had still managed to save a human life, and had been honored by that notion. Yes, the human she thought she had saved was a colossally awful one, and probably might have even lived (minus an eye, perhaps) had she gotten hit with the projectile that Valerie had blocked with her body, but she had still felt like a hero. She hadn't regretted her actions even when Jen had cussed her out before going to take her herbal bubble bath. Her night had finally been coming to a close, a finale that would entail some rewarding, steamy kitchen counter sex with one Danny Phantom, and then she had to go and discover dead Zeta president numero dos blue-faced in the tub.

It just proved that being nice and being bitchy, in ways that didn't target a direct source, had more or less the same outcome. There was no honorable deed that could be taken into account like some freebie no-murder token by a bloodthirsty spirit pulling all the strings. So today, Valerie was going to end it once and for all, before any more of them could die. She was going to take the fight to the killer.

* * *

| Herbert West Science Center: 3:50 P.M. |

"Val, Val wait up!"

Danny turned the corner and dashed down the hallway, nearly bumping into some grumpy Genetics II students transporting a large tray of petri dishes. He had been on the receiving end of another frigid, 120-minute-long silence from his lab partner in Chemistry. It was getting a bit ridiculous now, since she would only point, nod, or shake her head stiffly to communicate with him. This made completing assignments extremely difficult, let alone completing them well, since Valerie was had been the brains of the partnership before. He was beginning to wonder if her sense of pride was really that much greater than concern for her academics. While she was coldly ruining their chem grade, she had literally been making out with him two days earlier, and actually spent much of the weekend with him—at least most of Saturday and Sunday evening. Predictably, things had gone haywire after Valerie had discovered Jen's body choked to death in the bathtub. All of the pledges had begun panicking, again, and two had been picked up by their parents Sunday afternoon to leave the university for good. Holly and Gretchen had returned Saturday, the latter having to step into the role of house leader, even though she was as scared shitless as any of them—perhaps even more. Furthermore, whispers of the rehashed, grisly Felicity Jo legend had engulfed the Amity U populace. If he had known it was such easily accessible knowledge in the first place, he wouldn't have shaken Valerie down for the details a few days ago…even if shaking her down had been kind of fun.

Valerie told him on Saturday night that she had questioned Gretchen and Holly intensely about where they had been, but it really had been useless because even if she had been speaking face to face with Felicity Jo, there was no way she could have been sure. What's more, their stories of being with their boyfriends on Friday night both checked out, since she made them call their boyfriends in front of her for absolute confirmation. Though, again, who knows how "absolute" their confirmation was either. Regardless, there was no way either of them could have gotten into the mansion the night of Jen's murder, and the chances that one or even both of them could have been the ones who killed her were slim to none. Thus, he and Valerie were reasonably certain that the murderer had to be someone who had been sleeping in Zeta house that night. With two pledges out of the picture, their suspects had been narrowed down nicely.

Yet, there was still so much left unexplained. Danny was now strongly theorizing that there were two killers, and perhaps only one of them was inhabited by a ghost. Perhaps the other killer was Dean Slyman? Based on what they had found in his office; it was feasible to think that he was familiar with the dark arts. Could he have been the one who set Brad on fire? It seemed unlikely that he could have made it to the gym from Bates Hall by foot that quickly, but still possible. Similarly, could the killer have walked all the way across campus and hid out at the mansion during the whole face-off with zombie Penelope? And then crept out after all the ruckus had died down to murder Jen? Maybe and maybe not; he had thoroughly searched the mansion even while it had been on lockdown, and he hadn't seen anything. Thus, his distrust of Mallory and Ella was increasing more and more by the minute. And not only them, either. Not including Valerie, there were _three_ pledges still left.

"What do you want, Fenton?" asked Valerie, voice unnervingly low and face expressionless.

Danny tried not to falter in his speech, but it was hard considering how concentrated her stare was. He had wanted her attention, but now he felt like he had too much of it all at once and in a very negative way. It seemed like deja-vu, since he had undergone a similar reaction when he had called Sam late Sunday night after getting back to his dorm, who was none to pleased about being left hanging for most of the weekend.

"I just wanted to ask where you were going…" he said, feeling the back of his neck heat up as his voice trailed off awkwardly.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, tapping her foot.

"I just…" he said, fidgeting with the frayed strap of his backpack. "I just was curious since you usually meet up with Paulina after chem, and she didn't come today."

Valerie narrowed her eyes. "Paulina's currently playing mini-golf with Tucker," she said. "so we're not hanging out today. I also have an appointment with Dean Slyman at four."

"What? What about?"

"That's not any of your _business_ , Fenton."

She swiftly spun on her heel and walked out of the science center. Uneasiness growing as he watched her figure hurry along the outside sidewalk, Danny was about to run out after her when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, nearly jumping at the fluorescent white-blonde and neon salmon hues that assaulted his eyes.

"Danny!" said the girl, running a hand through her brightly dyed, wavy hair. She was dressed in a flouncy, vividly-colored romper that barely brushed over her panty line.

"Uh, yeah?" he said in return, squinting.

"My name's Holly," she said cheerfully. "Holly Worthington. I'm currently the recruiting chair of Zeta Phi Zeta sorority…and also the PanHellenic representative chair, and public relations chair, and treasurer…um, we're a little short on members at the moment.

He stared back at her, thinking that most sorority girls really were hard to tell apart from each other. Danny remembered seeing Holly and the other Zeta clones backing up their then-president at the infamous party, and then cry hysterically over her corpse at the end of the night. She was definitely a current suspect in all of this, so Danny was a bit bothered by the fact that he couldn't distinguish her from any other effervescent, spray-tanned face. "So I've heard."

"Listen…" she said, biting her lip. "I know you have a thing for Valerie. I noticed you staring at her at the Zeta rager two Fridays ago—you know, before you made an ass of yourself by bumping into Paulina and causing her to puke on Brad from the swim team. My _huge_ , condolences for your loss, by the way."

Danny frowned, shaking his head. "Um, we weren't friends? The only time I had ever talked to him was that night, and we were literally about to fight."

"Well, yeah, but it's still super sad that he died!" she said, giggling and lightly hitting him on the chest. "Silly. Anyway, Valerie was bitching about you the entire week after. Something about you saying another girl's name in bed."

"I did _not_ do that," he corrected irritably. "is everyone spreading that around, or what?"

"Whatever," said Holly. "you did something to piss her off. And it was something pretty bad because now she's apparently dating that ghost weirdo Danny Phantom to get over you."

He tried his best to act surprised. "Oh, really? Damn it."

"I know right?" she replied. "I mean, he's hot but like, I personally would be freaked out by the whole being-dead thing. And I'm sure ghosts are terrible at sex. Like, how would you even feel anything at all? Except a super cold, clamminess in your vag after it was all over."

Danny was crossed between disgusted and offended. "Um, I don't know about any of that. But what's your point?"

"My point is," she said with a smile, flashing him her blindingly white teeth. "I think you should try to apologize and go for her again."

He raised is eyebrows in response. "Okay, first of all—I've apologized a hundred times already and tried saying everything I can think of to make things better, and none of it worked. Second—why do you even care? What's your game here?"

Holly pursed her tangerine-tinted lips. "No game! Okay, maybe a little…"

He glared.

"I just," she continued apprehensively, "I just don't like that freak hanging around at the mansion, okay?"

"What?"

"He was over like all of Saturday night and again on Sunday!" complained Holly, waving her skinny arms, "It's seriously creeping me out. The house gets so cold when he's there!"

"Uh, Holly," Danny said. "you do know that there's a psychotic ghost out to kill all of you right now, don't you? He's probably trying to keep a close watch on things at that murderhouse you're all living in, and Valerie's helping him."

"Yeah, that's what she told us," she sniffed. "and okay, but I mean can't they do that somewhere else?"

"No?" he said, becoming increasingly annoyed by her stupidity. "Why would he try to be anywhere else other than the mansion your past two sisters were killed in?"

"Danny, you don't understand," Holly said in a dire tone, inching closer. "one of the pledges told me they were gonna have sex on the _kitchen counter_. That is so gross! I mean, we like never cook but still, ew!"

He rolled his eyes. "Were they going to do that before or after Jennifer MacDougal was found dead in a bathtub?"

"Before, I think," she said. "Look, I'm just saying that a sister doing it with a ghost is bad for Zeta's image!"

Danny's gaze was unbelieving. "Really," he said. "because I think being picked off one by one by a murderous spirit is worse for your image. And to be honest, Zeta's reputation was shitty to begin with."

"Hey," Holly shot back, crossing her arms. "I resent that."

"I don't care," Danny said, "and I think that you should get over Danny Phantom hanging out at the house since he is most likely just doing his job."

Her features contorted in perplexity. "Why aren't you more bothered by this? I mean, you do still like Valerie, don't you?"

Immediately becoming self-conscious, his face softened. "Oh, well, yeah of course I do!"

"Then why are you defending him so much? I mean, he's moving in on your woman, Danny!"

Danny felt perspiration dewing across his forehead. "I just think you need to have more faith in him in as the protector of Amity Park," he elaborated. "and well, he is pretty cool. I'm not sure how I could compete with him if she really is interested in him."

Finishing that statement without cracking up was by far the most challenging feat he had accomplished all day.

"Oh, please," said Holly, rolling her eyes. "don't give me that. If you ask me, Valerie shouldn't be tarnishing the Zeta Phi Zeta legacy by getting romantically involved with his kind. I'd much prefer if she dated someone boring and mediocre, but still human, like you!"

Danny did not seem flattered. He had broken a record for himself by managing to get simultaneously complimented and curved, over the same thing except reversed, in less than three days.

"Thanks," was his sarcastic reply. "but like I said before, I can't seem to get back on her good side in any way. Nothing I've tried has worked."

"Which is why," she cooed slyly, reaching into her Coach purse, "you need a little help." He watched her pull out a diminutive velvet case. Opening it in front of him, she displayed the sparkling object inside. Danny's eyes widened.

"What is—"

"It's a peridot-encrusted silver tennis bracelet," interrupted Holly. "that you can give to Valerie."

"…what _?_ "

She snapped the case shut. Holly grabbed his hand, her razor sharp shellac nails digging into his flesh. Firmly, she placed it in his palm.

"Our current house president is regularly pissing herself out of pure terror," she said, holding his wrist with a vice grip. "thinking that she's the next one to die. And she probably will be. Yet, she'd rather die than reject the position of leader. This has forced me to take more of an initiative as the ruler from the shadows, and you can consider this my first authoritative act of business. You see, as a sorority, Zeta is in shambles. We can barely trust anyone, and we most definitely can't trust a ghost if a ghost is the one out to get us. That's why I want you to take this bracelet and give it to Valerie so she can quit inviting that freak over to the mansion. If you get her to like you again, she'll dump is ghoulish ass. "

Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. "He's been watching over Amity Park for years now, Holly," he tried to reason with her. "I don't think his intentions are anything but good."

"You don't know that," she said, pulling away. "if his intentions really were pure, then he wouldn't be trying to screw one of us. I don't trust him. At all. And regardless of what you think of Zeta's history, I won't let him besmirch it by cozying his freaky ghost self up at our house. Gretchen doesn't have the ovaries to do anything except welter in her own fear, so someone has to step up and start bringing Zeta out of the ashes. And when that bitch gets stabbed in the face with a stiletto heel, or eats a poisoned Luna bar, or gets hanged with a pair of pantyhose, I'll be there to inherit the restored queendom. I'm way more woman than Penelope, Jennifer, and Gretchen put together, so it'll take a lot more than some bitter, haggy undead failure of a Zeta to take me out."

She sported a dangerously confident look. He glanced down at the gift now in his grasp, then looked back up at her. "You can't be serious, Holly," he said. "this doesn't make any sense. Why are you so against Danny Phantom? Shouldn't you be trying to get rid of the ghost that's trying to kill you instead? And why are you giving me something so expensive to give to Valerie?"

Holly strolled past him, stopping before she exited through the revolving doors. "I just told you—we already have one stupid ghost to deal with; we don't need another one. Especially a douchey guy one. I already have a plan for dealing with Felicity Jo. And that bracelet was only like two hundred dollars. It was like spending pocket change, 'cus if you didn't notice, I'm filthy rich," she answered, "peridot is Val's birthstone, by the way."

* * *

| Bates Hall – 4:10 P.M. |

Valerie looked down at her phone. It was ten minutes over her scheduled meeting time with the Dean, and whoever was currently in his office did not sound like they were going to be leaving any time soon. Sighing, she tucked her other hand into the front pocket of her overalls again, feeling the object hidden inside as she continued waiting.

"Hi there, Ms. Valerie Gray."

Having been just about to kill time with a round of Candy Crush, she looked up from her mobile device and met the deep brown eyes of Kyle…something. It occurred to her that she had never learned the swimmer's last name. Though, he evidently knew hers, and felt the need to add it on when greeting her.

"Oh, hi Kyle," she said. "what are you doing here?"

"I was just taking care of some stuff at the financial office," he replied. "thought I'd stop by to find out what trouble you've gotten yourself into. Let me guess: you're turning yourself in as the Zeta house killer?"

Straightening her back, she clasped her hands in her lap and met his eyes. "Yes, I am," she said in unwavering monotone. Startled, he instinctively began to take a step back before he realized she was just a particularly convincing actress.

"I almost believed you for a second," he said scratching the back of his head and re-approaching her. "you girls are so—"

"Good at lying?" she questioned, cutting him off with a frown.

He cocked his head and assumed a humble tone. "I was going to say, 'hard to read.'"

"Of course."

"Mind if I join you?"

Valerie's brows knitted together. "Why?"

"I just wanted to tell you something," he answered, appearing a little sheepish. Before she could even confirm whether she minded him joining her or not, he had sat down in the chair next to her.

"Valerie," Kyle said, face closer to her own than she'd prefer. "it's been three days since my boy Brad died."

She wished she was better at forcing sympathy. "I'm…sorry," she said meagerly.

"No, it's okay. Everyone knew he was a douche."

The corner of her mouth twisted in bafflement. "Uh?"

"Including you," he replied. "anyway, since he's no longer alive to say this, I'm taking it upon myself to say it for him: I am so sorry."

Now completely mystified, Valerie could only stare blankly. "What?"

Brad leaned back in his seat, covering his face with his palms. "Ugh, god damn it."

Becoming concerned for his sanity, she contemplated reaching out to touch him comfortingly, until he recaptured her attention by suddenly grabbing her arm instead.

"Kyle, what the he—"

"I shouldn'ta let him talk to you girls like that," he said, sounding like his whole body was stricken with painful remorse. "at the Zeta party."

She felt his grasp loosen and then slowly droop away, hand sitting limply at his side. At this point, she was more than a little disturbed.

"Oh, um," she said, slightly nudging away from him in her chair. "it's no big deal."

"No, it is a big deal," he said, sharply turning towards her again so that their eyes locked. "'cause now that Brad's gone, I can't hide behind his shittiness anymore. I have to be my own person, and I'm sick of this normative straight frat dickhead behavior, you know? Like—" he swallowed hard. "it's all so freaking exhausting. Being this much of an asshole all the time. So much that, it's honestly therapeutic to _not_ be a douche."

A moment of tense silence passed. Valerie then very gently prodded his shoulder. "Kyle, I—uh—I promise, it's okay. It's not like you didn't try to calm Brad down. And really, if you want to apologize to someone, it should probably be Paulina."

"I already apologized to her."

"Really? Huh," Valerie said thoughtfully, trying hard to end the conversation. "well, I'd say you have every right to forgive yourself, then."

Without warning, Kyle pulled her into a tight hug. Her whole body went stiff, sinuses overpowered by his aftershave. On reflex, she harshly shoved him off, eyes furious. However, they instantly lessened in anger once she saw that his were filled with tears. They began to trickle down his freckled cheeks.

"K-Kyle?" she stuttered in shock.

"Aw shit," he said, jerking away from her so she couldn't see his face. "I'm sorry, don't look at me."

She heard the door beside her open. Turning around, she saw the ugly, agitated, bull-dog face of Dean Slyman.

"Could you two keep it down out here?" he grumbled darkly. "I'm still meeting with a student in my office. You're being very rude."

Valerie repressed the glower that was itching to consume her expression. "We're sorry, Dean Boyle-Slyman. But, I'd like you to know that I was scheduled to meet with you at four o'clock, and it's twenty past."

"I realize that, Mrs. Gray," he said. "but I am discussing very important matters with another person right now. Don't be so selfish."

He disappeared back into his office and slammed the door shut. Valerie growled to herself.

"Dick," she muttered.

"What do you need to talk to him about?" Kyle asked, wiping the moisture from his eyes.

"Just scheduling stuff," she lied.

He gave her an odd look. "Why didn't you go to the registrar's offi—"

"Kyle," Valerie addressed him in her sweetest voice, deftly changing the subject. "I admire you for being so real with me about Brad and shitty fraternity behavior in general. Definitely shows your integrity."

Kyle reddened at her compliment. "Thanks Valerie," he said nervously. "I've always…always thought you were really great."

"Appreciate it," she said curtly, looking back down at her phone screen.

"Really cute too," he added. "you know, I'm going to the football game tonight against Bridgeton. It'll be super wild. Interested?"

Valerie sighed, turning towards him. "Kyle, that's really nice, but…"

She paused. No longer wrought with sorrow, Kyle was giving her a wily, boyish grin. His brown eyes were wide and staring intently at her, and while she wouldn't admit it out loud, she thought they were gorgeous. The way his dark irises were flecked with gold that twinkled handsomely in the lighting had her at a momentary loss for words. In fact, his entire face wasn't all that bad to look at; the boy had a jawline for days.

 _God, what has come over me?_ Valerie thought to herself.

"Mmm," she said, watching his soft lips as they were about form what she was sure would be more flirtatious comments, "I…have to go to the bathroom!"

Valerie shot up from her chair. Feeling like a wind-up toy, she robotically traipsed down the corridor and vanished around the corner. Kyle slouched sadly in his seat. Spotting the women's restroom, Valerie entered with her mind swarming with thoughts on how she had just made a fool of herself for no reason.

"Ugh," she said, looking at herself in the long mirror near the door. "since when am I so enchanted by guys like that?"

"Guys like what?"

She jumped at the voice, almost letting out a small squeal of fright. Laughter rang out from thin air, until Valerie saw something begin to materialize next to her. Or, more accurately: someone. Her face transitioned from fear to provocation.

"You creep!" she hissed at Danny, hitting him across his now tangible black-suited chest.

"Dude, you almost screamed," he said.

"I'm gonna make you scream in a second," she threatened. "I should report you for harassment. This is the girl's bathroom!"

"I literally just phased in here," Danny defended himself. "I followed you after you walked away from that Kyle douche."

"Oh, like that's any less creepy," seethed Valerie. "I'm serious: how often do you spy on me?"

"I don't spy on you," he said, "I just look out for you."

"I don't need you to look out for me," she retorted icily. "I can take care of myself."

"Let me amend my previous statement," he replied. "I just keep a look out to make sure you don't do anything _stupid_."

"And what, exactly, do you mean by that?"

Danny stepped forward so that there was minimal space in between their bodies, and Valerie precipitously became aware of the drop in temperature. Trying to hold back her shivers, she held his severe gaze.

"You're going to do something to Dean Slyman," he said.

Her lips curled slightly. "What makes you think that, ghost boy?"

"I just know you," he answered. "now tell me what it is that you're planning."

"What if I don't want to?" she said aloofly, examining her fingernails.

"You're going to hurt him," Danny said.

Startled by the sentence, she jolted in place. "What? That's crazy."

Temporarily puzzled, he hesitated before responding. Uncertainly, he began, "But, I thought—"

"I'm going to kill him."

" _Valerie_."

"That's my name."

He stared at the cunning leer in her feline eyes.

"Problem?" she inquired.

"Are you insane?" he asked with hardened tone. "What is going through your mind right now? How could you even think of doing something so jaw-droppingly _stup_ —"

"He's a killer," she interjected. "He's a killer! And he's gonna kill again unless he gets killed first!"

"You don't know that!"

"Oh, don't I?" Valerie said, reaching into her back pocket. She presented her upturned fist and then unclosed her fingers. In the center palm lay a silver topaz-adorned pin of some sort. If something was supposed to click in his head at the sight of the small accessory, her effort had been unsuccessful.

"What the heck is this pin supposed to be?" he asked.

"It's not a pin, stupid," she said. "it's one of Dean Slyman's cufflinks. I found it under the tub in the downstairs bathroom. You know, the one Jen was _murdered_ in?"

Danny was flummoxed. " _What?_ H-how in the—why didn't you show me as soon as you found it?"

"I thought you would try to prevent me from killing him."

"Well, you'd be right!" he said, astonished at her detached demeanor, "Valerie, even if you found that cufflink at the scene of the murder, it doesn't mean that Dean Slyman is the one who killed Jen! The house was on complete lockdown, remember? He couldn't have gotten inside!"

"Of course he could have," she said simply.

"I beg you to inform me of how."

"When we snuck into his office the other night," Valerie explained. "and went through his desk drawers, I saw a file holding a blueprint of the Zeta house, on the front of which were directions to disable something—how much do you want to bet that it was the security system?"

"Uh, nothing, because that's a hugely flimsy assumption to make of someone?" he rebutted, flabbergasted.

"No," she said, unyielding. "Dean Slyman already had keys to the house. His daughter lived there for god's sake. We all saw him visiting more than once."

"Even if he had unlocked a door or window, the alarm would have gone off!"

"That's why he disabled it!"

"Valerie, you can't just—"

"I can, and I'm going to."

"I won't let you," he said, reaching out to enclose his hand around her wrist in a frigid clamp. Danny expected her to react lividly, but she only stood there with her immovable resolve.

"You're not a killer, Val," he tried to make her think rationally. "and besides, if he is the main killer, then that means he's possessed by Felicity! You just told me on Saturday night that we can't harm the body of an innocent vessel!"

"But _he's_ not innocent," Valerie said grimly. "he's a psycho who summoned the evil spirit of a dead sorority girl to slaughter a bunch of people. Granted, all those people were terrible, but they still didn't deserve to die!"

"You acted like you didn't even care if Jen got killed!"

"That was before I risked my life to save her," she said, voice beginning to tremble. "and later found out it was all for freaking nothing! Don't you get it?"

He watched her expression turn sullen. "We can't just 'look out for each other,'" said Valerie. "none of us are safe and the only solution is to go right to the sadistic source and take it out."

"Okay, but killing the Dean isn't going to eliminate the source?" argued Danny. "It'll just force Felicity out of his dead body, and then she'll just look for a new host. And you'll have a felony on your hands!"

"Not if I use a cleansing potion," Valerie said.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you let go of me, maybe I'll show you," she said coolly.

Glowering at her, he cautiously let go of her wrist. Reaching into her front pocket, Valerie produced a small, rectangular piece of something wrapped in foil.

"Is that," Danny asked. "chocolate?"

"I texted Bethany over the weekend to oh-so-innocently ask about our stats homework, and then the conversation unexpectedly turned into queries about any sweets Dean Slyman happened to like," she said. "and, well, this right here is his absolute favorite: authentic cioccalato di modica con chili—with an additional infusion of one bitching purifying draught."

He would have chuckled if the situation had been less critical. "I hope you know that cleansing potions only have a fifty percent success rate."

"Of course I know that," she snapped. "which is why I brewed one with high levels of lavender oil and unreduced dead sea water."

"Okay…?"

"And a very zealous blood sacrifice."

The very little color that was present in Danny's face faded. "Don't tell me you…"

"That's right, ghost boy," Valerie said, grimacing menacingly. "I donated my own blood to the little concoction, giving it an extra potent kick that makes the smell and taste not only addictive to humans and ghosts alike, but assured to be deadly to both as well. And if and when it expels Felicity from Dean Slyman's body, I'll be ready to catch the moment she wastes to nothingness on camera for everyone as proof. Trust me, it'll be one hell of an Instagram post."

"You used a spell," he said, sickened. "you used dark magic! How do you even know how to use dark magic? How could you even _think_ to—"

"It's amazing what you can learn how to do after a trip to the 'occult' section of your friendly local library. You gonna do something about it?" she challenged, voice taking on a sultry edge.

He felt the ectoplasmic energy coursing through his veins begin to concentrate in his fists. Yet, he became hesitant when he saw her eyes soften. He watched her look away sadly, as if she instantly regretted posing the question.

"Sorry," she apologized ambiguously. "I just thought…"

She threw her arms around his neck and fell into him, much to his surprise.

"Valerie…?"

"I think I was wrong," she murmured against him, the vibration of her words on his chest a prickling stimulus to his receptive body.

Her lips raised to his ear. "I just thought after telling you I wanted you, and then wholly offering myself to you, you would have become a bit more lenient. That is," she said, and he shivered. "you wouldn't have a problem with letting me kill just one homicidal scumbag pervert."

The electrifying pain that shot through his system was powerful enough to fry every inch of his being up to the very tips of his fingers and toes. He felt his arms constricted straight to his sides, and crumpled to the floor. Valerie stood over him, the chocolate in one hand and a modified chrome stun gun in the other, which had reloaded with what looked to be a thick, charged fiber pulled taut between two metal probes. He looked down, seeing the same voltaic fiber had expanded to wrap rigidly around his torso, paralyzing him.

"Sorry to leave you in such a bind," she said, giving him a tart grin. "but I have a dean to go ice."

"V-Valerie!" he spluttered. "Don't you dare leave me here!"

"The paralysis should last thirty minutes," Valerie said. "which should be all the time I need to get the job done. And even if it takes me a bit longer than thirty minutes, some scandalized coed is bound to call security on your pasty butt when she finds you here. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to apprehend the famous Danny Phantom for creeping in the ladies' room."

If he had fangs, he would have been baring them at her viciously.

"You are _so…_ " he snarled. "if you leave this bathroom, I swear I'll—"

"Bye, boo!" she parted cheerily, blowing him a kiss on the way out.

Valerie left him incapacitated on the filthy white tile, swearing obscenely to himself. His head was desperately abuzz with thoughts on what he should do, and also impetuous vows on how he was one-hundred-percent _done_ with girls.

* * *

Valerie hadn't given much consideration to how exactly one interacted with a possessed human being. Did you address the vessel or the entity occupying it? Or both? Did it honestly matter that much, since she was about to eviscerate both of them anyway? She decided to go with a handshake. To her chagrin, Dean Slyman flinched in disgust when Valerie offered him her hand. It was all he did to acknowledge the gesture before taking a seat, with her resentfully following suit. _So which of them is the racist one?_ wondered Valerie. _Wouldn't be surprised if Dean Slyman was just like his daughter._

"Well Ms. Gray," Dean Slyman said, assessing her from across his scattered desk with a cruel gaze. "I hope this will be a short conversation. My office hours end at five."

Her jaw tightened. In that case, Valerie had exactly twelve minutes. The kill alone would take a minute max—there was enough lethal force in one square of the chocolate alone. It was the presentation, the act of gifting the chocolate, that would take the real slow-finessing. Valerie was confident she could do it, but she couldn't dawdle with any small talk. Although she couldn't be too forward. _God, murder is so totally complicated,_ she thought. _If only the meeting before me hadn't taken so long!_ She had noticed that the student who had been in before her was a pretty girl with reddish hair, not very dissimilar looking to Bethany in clean-faced appearance and small stature. Out of revulsion, Valerie tried not to think very hard about this, except for taking note of the fact that the possessed Dean clearly had a type.

"Sure, Dean Boyle-Slyman," she said politely. "I just wanted to give you s-s-ome-thi… _ah, AH choo!_ " Valerie turned away and sneezed in the direction of her shoulder. When she looked back up, she saw Dean Slyman looking at her as if she had just committed a heinous crime.

"Um," she said apologetically. "excuse me."

He narrowed his eyes. "God bless you."

She paused. Feeling awkward, she nodded in thanks.

"You didn't completely cover your mouth," he tetchily commented.

Valerie had made sure not to release any spittle, mucus, or other nastiness; it had only been a small sneeze. Probably one of the most ladylike sneezes she had ever emitted. It didn't seem all that unlikely for Dean Slyman to be a stickler for etiquette or a germ freak or both, but if he was being controlled by Felicity's ghost why would it mean anything to her?

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have been more mindful of hygi—"

"You realize that your soul can escape when you sneeze without covering your mouth, do you not?" said the Dean. "Making it much easier for the devil to enter your body."

Wordlessly, she cocked her head in a taken aback, "come again?" manner.

"Were you raised by heathen parents in the woods, Ms. Gray?"

She clenched her teeth. Containing her anger for the time being, she replied, "No, Dean Boyle-Slyman, of course not."

"Then I don't see what you're so confused about," he replied. "you really should be more cautious about these sorts of things."

"I...didn't know you were so superstitious."

"Superstitious?" he repeated, nostrils flaring. "Young lady, these are facts. Scientific facts."

 _Not any science that I've studied before_ , she thought.

"You should always be hugely thankful to be blessed after a sneeze," Dean Slyman continued. "for it could be what saves you from a wretched and unholy existence."

"I'll try not to take such things so lightly anymore," Valerie assured monotonously.

"Good," he said. "you young people think you're invincible, unable to see the protection one gains from being pious and god-fearing. Many of you even willingly try to mess with the devil, with your ouji boards and heavy make up and dubstep."

"Wait, wait," Valerie's eloquence suddenly escaped her. "are you saying that you're not into…or um, interested, in that kind of—um, stuff?"

It was as if she had asked if he supported Hitler. "Of. Course. _Not,_ " he breathed.

She could see terror and alarm in his once brutal stare. Valerie almost felt guilty for asking something so offensive.

"The affairs of the devil and his consorts are not something ordinary mortals like you and I should be messing with," he said. "it's bad enough this city is already crawling with ungodly specters of every sort. No need to make it any worse by provoking the other side for asinine adolescent amusement."

Valerie's face twitched. _Damn, that alliteration though._

"That goes double for you, Ms. Gray," he added. "with a name like yours, you've been doomed by birth to have the devil's luck."

"Excuse me?"

He coughed. "Your name…"

She was starting to become seriously irked by his nonsense. "What exactly are you trying to say, Dean Boyle-Slyman?"

"According to your personal record," he explained, underlying trepidation in his tone. "your middle name is 'Di.'"

"Yes, _and?_ " Sure, it wasn't the prettiest middle name in the world, but to associate it with Satan was just plain insulting.

"That makes your full name consist of thirteen letters," he answered, shuddering and wearing the same repulsed expression he had when she had attempted the handshake. "and individuals with thirteen letters in their name are cursed with hellish misfortune and attract all manners of dark creatures. Good Lord, child, haven't you ever cracked open a book once in your life?"

Deadpanning, she thought that even if he wasn't currently possessed by an undead sorority bitch, she would have still wanted to murder the fool. Catching herself in mid-homicidal fantasy, she halted her thought process and became quizzical about whether or not the words coming out of the hideous, sagging visage in front of her truly belonged to a vengeful female spirit. This wasn't exactly the conversation she expected to have with one, that's for sure, but she had to keep in mind there was no set level of predictability when it came to ghosts.

That being said, she was still nonplussed by the Dean's behavior. _Could it be he didn't want to touch me not because he's racist, but because he think's I'm cursed by the Devil?_ Again, if he was possessed, she was stumped to as why that would be an issue. "I have to say I'm embarrassed by my own ignorance," she remarked dryly.

"As you should be. You should do right by that cross you wear around your neck," he said, nodding. "now, what is it that you wanted to speak to me about? You have five minutes."

Her chest became taut with nervousness. Gripping the wrapped chocolate tightly in her pocket, she remained quiet.

"Well, Ms. Gray?"

"I…"

 _What's my deal? You slaved all weekend over this damn chocolate—even poured out an ounce of your own blood for it! Just say something, anything…bat those thick, long lashes and purr, "I just want to thank you for being such a caring Dean in these hard times, and wanted to give you something to express my deepest sympathies for your recent loss…" Or, I don't know, maybe just say, "Bitch I know it's you. Eat chocolate," fly across that desk and stuff it down her throat! Er, his throat. Their throat. Whatever, just talk, girl! Talk!_

"Dean Slyman!" she lunged forward, planting her hands flat on his desktop. Her abrupt movement had accidentally tipped the small flag stand that had been sitting in the desk's corner. It teetered precariously before Dean Slyman hurriedly steadied it back into place.

"Ms. Gray!" he bellowed. "Be careful!" She winced at his loud scolding.

"This is the _Danish_ flag," he fumed. "it is horrible bad luck for this flag to touch the ground! As a member of a proud family of Danes, I cannot let this flag be so flagrantly disrespected—it came from _heaven_."

That was the last straw. She knew what she had to do.

"I…" Valerie said, squeezing the chocolate so hard that it broke in half. "just wanted to say that I think you're a really great Dean and tell you that I'm applying for a work study position in your secretary's office!"

She rapidly backed away from his desk and waved goodbye. "Have a great day! See you later!"

Picking her backpack up from the floor, she left his office as quickly as she could, blushing furiously and leaving a very confused dean in her wake. Exiting into the empty hallway, she speed-walked around the corner and leaned against the wall, heart beating thunderously.

 _What just…?_

An icy-tight hold around her ankles cut her thoughts short, and she felt her whole body yanked downwards through the floor. The motion occurred so swiftly that she did not have time to fully register the stories of building that passed before her eyes before she was immersed in darkness. Panic overcame her, and she scrambled for a weapon, but her wrist was seized by something unseen.

"Valerie," came a hair-raising baritone. A pair of glowing green eyes flashed into view.

She inhaled sharply. "Danny?"

His bright irises were radiant with nothing but anger.

" _You_ are unbelievable," he growled. Skin erupting in goose bumps, Valerie was glad the lights were off because her current expression was one of genuine fear. Yet, a shudder of excitement shook through her as she spoke.

"I didn't do it, Danny," she said. "he's fine."

"Yeah, I figured," he replied gruffly. "I knew you didn't have it in you. But that doesn't make me any less pissed."

"Let me go," she ordered, trying to not to waver in her command. He pulled her closer.

"What is your problem?" he demanded. "Why is it that I can never trust you? We were supposed to be in this _together_ , so why did you turn on me like that?"

The tension between them sent a spell of itching static along her flesh. She scowled and retorted, "What made you think we were in this together? I make my own decisions, regardless of what the saintly Danny Phantom thinks. I needed your help in the beginning, sure, but that didn't insure you for a damn thing on my end. I'm a ghost hunter, Phantom. And I'll do whatever it takes to take down ghosts and everyone who fraternizes with 'em, which includes necessarily turning annoying, meddling wannabe-superheroes into collateral."

Her blood ran cold at the sound of his mordant laughter.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said astringently. "how colossally hypocritical of you, Val. Yeah…"

He twisted her arm slightly, but her senses were too high on thrill to notice the pain.

"I know you hate ghosts," Danny scathed. "that's why you were about to give it up for on last Friday night, right?"

The resolute force that sent her palm across his face was simply astonishing. Her hand collided with his cheek before he could even render himself intangible. Releasing her, he staggered backwards.

"Think nothing of it," she said poisonously. "except a mandatory evil to keep you sprung on me in case I needed anything else from you."

Danny straightened his posture. "Valerie…"

"We're not _partners_ , okay?" she almost yelled at him. Stamping her foot in frustration, she looked from left to right but could only make out outlines of bulky figures in the darkened room. "Where the hell are we?" Valerie asked, fists balled at her sides.

"The basement," he answered. "I didn't want anyone to see you with me."

"You mean you didn't want anyone to see you attack me."

"Did I attack you, Valerie?"

"Yes," she insisted. "you abducted and manhandled me and who knows what else you're going to do."

"I only wanted to confront you about how you attacked _me_ in the girl's bathroom," he replied. "Unlike you, I would never hurt you while your guard was down like that or even initiate a fight. Besides, it took most of my energy to overcome that goddamn binding before any unsuspecting coed walked in and then bring you down here, so it's not like I could do much else to you anyway."

She rubbed her aching wrist. "Yeah well, you coulda fooled me."

"I'm sorry I said what I said just now," he said. "but I'm not dropping how you went rogue on me."

"You want an apology?" she spat. "Well keep dreaming, ghost boy."

"I want you to be straight with me about all your suspicions and any evidence you find on your own from now on," he said. "and promise not to something this reckless and dangerous by yourself ever again."

"Um, excuse me?" she said, putting a hand on her hip. "Did you not hear what I said? I do whatever the hell I want! You're not the boss of me."

"No, I'm your partner, and we need to have mutual respect and understanding."

"What in the—I literally just said we're not partners!" she exclaimed. "I'm through working with you!"

"Is that so?" he asked. "Do you really think after what just happened, you can figure this out by yourself?"

She crossed her arms. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that you decided to do something crazy on an impulse because you got scared by something, and then wussed out of doing it because you probably got scared of something else," he said. "you only try to figure things out halfway before making brash decisions."

"I didn't know this was a therapy session," she sneered. "spare me the psychoanalysis, okay? You don't know anything about me."

"I've known you for years, Valerie."

"Yeah, as an enemy."

"It doesn't have to stay that way," he reasoned. "don't you see all the good that happens when we work together?"

She didn't answer. He sighed.

"Look," Danny said. "I've looked into the names we found in the Dean's office. I only have a lead on one of them, but I think it'll be really helpful. And I got you a hook up down at the police department to visit Caitlin Fowler."

Valerie's face contorted in confusion. "What? When…how did you manage to do that?"

"I know a guy," he said. "real good with technology. Caitlin's visitation privileges have been restricted more than a regular detainee's, so I had him hack the station's records to list you as a family member."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. You've got an appointment at the APPD's headquarters tomorrow afternoon at five thirty. And while you're taking care of that, I'll be across town at the apartment of Ms. Brittany Jean Spelling. She was Zeta's treasurer the year Felicity was president and nowadays works as a hairstylist. I'm sure she'll be able to give us some answers, if we can get her to—"

"Phantom," Valerie said, massaging her temples. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing all of this still?" she asked. "I mean, how could you still want to work with me after what I've said and done?"

"Because we need each other," he said as if it were elementary. Valerie shivered at the sound of his resolve, unrelentingly serious but also kind. Embarrassed by her silence, he faltered, "uh, we need each other to solve this case."

"You can't trust me."

"I'm going to try to. Again," Danny said with a hint of sadness. "I hope I don't regret doing so."

" _Ughhh_ ," groaned Valerie, walking towards him and grabbing his arm, which caught him by surprise. "whatever. Just get me out of here so we can go somewhere less cold, dark, and smelly. I have to tell you something about Dean Slyman—I don't think he was the one who summoned the ghost anymore."

"What'd I tell you?" He smirked as he levitated her upwards.

"Can it, ghost boy."

Feeling weightless as several floors splashed over her, Valerie chewed on her lip when he said her shortened name again: "By the way, Val."

"What?"

"If you need something from me, just ask. There's no need to do…other stuff. I mean I don't know if you meant what you said about trying to keep me 'sprung' or whatever, but…I'm not right for you, anyway."

She despised the way her heart sank at his words. It made her feel weak and stupid and like she was being "handled."

"Like I said before," Danny added solemnly. "You got another guy who cares about you a lot, I'm sure. Probably stresses you out a lot less too."

Valerie was determined not to tear up like a hopeless fourteen-year-old little bitch getting rejected by her crush. She swallowed hard, wondering how the situation had even ended up like this. _Not really._

* * *

|Zeta Phi Zeta Mansion - 5:50 P.M.|

"And when I accidently hit the ball into the koi pond, Tucker actually got in the water to fish it out for me! And he still let me win!" gushed Paulina. "Then he bought me an ice cream cone afterwards—with two scoops! Plus Oreo bits!"

"Wow," commended Valerie, smiling gently as they walked through the foyer. "he's a regular prince charming. So when's the second date?"

"This weekend!" Paulina replied. "We're going to Scoozi's."

They began their ascent upstairs. "Faaancy," her friend remarked, nodding in approval.

"You have to help me figure out what to wear," said Paulina.

"Of course."

"Anyway, how was your day?" she asked. "Did you see Da-a-any?"

Valerie's stomach turned during mid-step, thinking of her failed murder attempt. "It was okay," she said, "and yeah, but we didn't talk much."

"Gosh, are you gonna stay mad at him forever?"

" _No_ ," said Valerie. "maybe just for a few more weeks."

"Valerie, come _on!_ " Paulina bemoaned as they strolled through the hallway. "The poor guy's clearly dying inside from how you've been treating him. It's a tragedy, honestly."

"You're so overdramatic," she scoffed. "he's getting on just fine."

"Tucker told me he talks about you nonstop."

Pausing, Valerie remembered how Danny had stopped her in the hall earlier that day. "Really?" she inquired.

"Yep," Paulina affirmed, taking the key from her wallet chain and unlocking her bedroom door. "All I'm saying is that you should really give him another chance, Val. Or at the very least hear him out about the whole Sam thing. Ghost boy may be cool, but Danny's got it real bad for you. It's pretty obvious."

She thought about all those unanswered text messages he had sent. He had definitely tried to explain himself in the most earnest way possible several times. It had been over a week and she was still giving him the cold shoulder in class, and both he and their chemistry grade were suffering heavily for it. What's more, due to her impetuous, hotheaded nature the other Danny had basically put an end to any interaction between the two of them that wasn't relevant to catching Felicity's ghost. So to put it mildly, she wasn't feeling that great about herself. Maybe it really was time to let go of some that pride, if only for her own peace of mind. Deep down, she knew she really missed Danny, and forgiving him might actually lead to her feeling happy again. Valerie couldn't take back what had happened between her and Phantom, but perhaps she could follow up on Paulina's suggestion. Shrugging, she took out her own key and began heading towards the corner.

"I'll think about it. See ya later," she told her friend before they waved each other goodbye and resigned themselves to their respective suites.

Once in her bedroom, she locked her door and kicked off her shoes. Jumping onto her bed, she sprawled out lazily and heaved a large sigh. Valerie unbuttoned the strap of her overalls and let the top hang down under her black sports bra. Gingerly, she stroked the cut along the plain of her palm where she had sliced the flesh and poured out her own blood for the unused chocolate. _Guess I should return that "Witchcraft for Sistas" book to the Amity Park Public Library,_ she thought _._ Valerie felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. Pulling it out, she saw the screen aglow with a new text from Danny Fenton:

{wishing for this to be in the least annoying way possible: I hope you had a nice day. You left your chem notes in class btw

Her gut reaction should have been annoyance, yes, but her cheeks warmed at the sight of the message. Valerie thought her ego should have put up a better fight in preventing her fingers from hastily typing a reply.

It was all right.}

…

Can I get the notes from you tomorrow? We can meet up at lunch}

{Holy crap. Really?

She rolled her eyes.

Yeah}

{Definitely yes then. We should meet up for lunch!

…

{So I can give you your notes, I mean

Valerie tossed her phone on her comforter, getting up to wriggle out of her constricting denim get-up completely. Standing in her underwear, she heard her phone vibrate again. Looking down she saw two more texts from Danny.

{Your hair looked really nice today.

{I've never seen you wear it like that before.

She snorted at the compliment. _Trying his luck, I see._

Thanks}

Feeling gutsy herself, she opened her front camera and snapped a selfie, holding the mobile device with one hand and lightly pinching one of her hair buns with the other. More and more rebellious little coils had gradually sprung out from their confines throughout the day.

Not so nice anymore, though}

The image accompanying the caption was one of her cheekily sticking her tongue out, bra and upper abdomen visible.

…

…

{I disagree. Still very, very nice.

Smirking at her phone screen, she wondered what he might be thinking. There was so much one could infer from an extended blinking ellipses preceding a short text. She laid front-first on her bed again, re-opening her camera. Dexterously, she took another selfie, this time with a regular smile, chin resting on her hand, bosom pressed against the mattress so that her cleavage was showing more amply, and her round behind poised slightly in the back. Selecting a sticker app, she placed a cartoon heart onto the image to obscure her rear, though it was too large to be wholly covered. She held her breath. _Someone, anyone, stop me._ Her pulse sped up as she tapped "send."

I can be nice sometimes}

…

…

…

{You drive me crazy.

Pursing her lips contentedly, Valerie typed out her response.

Appreciate the angle? And my artistic touch on censorship?}

{Yea it's cute :)

…

{But I prefer this angle a lot more

A video clip appeared in the conversation thread. She raised an eyebrow, heart stopping when she played it. The recording showed her stripping her overalls in her room and settling back onto the bed with her tiny panty-clad ass bared in all its bounteous glory to the viewer, who seemed to be watching from a higher post somewhere. A chill ran up her spine as she watched herself taking a selfie. Face flushing with fury and embarrassment as she rolled over and sat up, she glared at the small, diamond-shaped window elevated on the wall opposite to her. There was no one in it, but she stalked straight for it nonetheless. _That disgusting perv!_ Watching the empty glass, her fingers angrily ticked away at her keypad.

I can't believe you Danny! You filthy little creep! I should report you for sexual harassment!}

…

{Aw but why? It's nothing you weren't gonna show me anyway

Feeling like she was going to absolutely maul the boy when she caught him, Valerie walked over to her desk and grabbed the chair, dragging it over to use as a stepping stool. Her phone vibrated once she positioned herself back below the window.

Bummed you moved from the bed. Was hoping you were gonna shake that ass for me ;) }

Valerie was so close to hurling her phone right into the wall. _I'm going to kill him_.

There was still no one in the window, and she doubted she could reach it comfortably even with the extra height beneath her feet, but damn it she was going to try. However, the minute she got up on the chair, there was a shuffling crash and scared yelp at the tall window on the other side of her room. As if on reflex, she bounded off and made a beeline in its direction. Once there, she yanked up the screen and stuck her head outside, incensed eyes darting around for the peeping Tom and soon to be ex-friend. A familiar, uneasy voice sounded from southwards. "V-Valerie?"

Glancing below, she was startled to see Danny clinging onto the thick climbing vine scaling the side of the house.

"You're _dead_ , Fenton," she seethed, dropping her phone on the windowsill and springing her hands downwards to grab hold of the front of his shirt. Valerie hoisted up his entire body with her powerful arms and held him so that he was half inside and half dangling over the ledge.

"Wait—wait—what?"

"I am going to beat the crap out of you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay!" he cried. "I was just trying to be romantic! Like Romeo and Juliet!" He had actually used his powers to fly over to the mansion, but realizing he couldn't just appear in her window as Danny Phantom, he had impulsively decided to make it look like he had climbed up there…and underestimated how out of shape he was in his human form.

She bristled. "In what freaking version of that play does Romeo send Juliet creepy videos of her in her freaking underwear?"

Danny blinked. "Huh?"

"You dick," she said with her fist cocked, ready to strike. "I give you a chance, and you ruin it!"

"Hold on, Valerie, I don't know what you're talking about!" he pleaded.

"Don't give me that, punk!"

"I'm telling the truth! I was just climbing up here to give you a gift! Something to say 'I'm sorry' for what happened at the party!" He reached into his pocket and desperately presented her with a small velvet box. "See?"

Valerie slowly lowered her arm. "A…gift?"

"Yeah, it's a bracelet!" He opened the container to reveal a dainty peridot-encrusted band. "It has your birthstone on it!"

Danny was sweating profusely. She was confounded by the offering, making him uncertain of whether or not he should expect a fist colliding with his face in the next few seconds. To be safe, he screwed his eyes shut and prepared for impact.

"But…but I don't understand?" Valerie asked. "You were texting me, just now! You recorded me in my bedroom!" Danny opened his eyes.

"I was texting you?" he repeated, mystified.

"I have the sleazy messages you sent me, look!" She picked up her phone and thrust its glaring screen into his face, temporarily blinding him.

"Ugh, Valerie," he said, looking away so he wasn't staring directly at the phone. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't texting you. My phone has been in my pocket this whole time."

He reached into the back of his jeans.

"…what?" he murmured when his hand met nothing but the interior fabric of his pocket. "Where the heck is my phone?"

Valerie growled. "You are such a liar!"

She hauled him into her room and threw him against the wall. Valerie ferociously dug into all of his pockets, leaving them inside out in her haste. He could now see that she wasn't wearing any bottoms. Danny pondered if Felicity had cursed him to be a victim of irony for the rest of his life; he had constantly dreamed of Valerie fumbling with his pants in nothing but her underwear, but the first time it happened she had to be pissed as all hell at him. Then again, it's not like he wasn't already used to that.

"Where. Is. _It?_ "

"I told you, I don't have it," Danny said. "someone must have stolen it and texted you that weird stuff."

"But who would—"

Successive taps from above were heard. Their heads both turned to the diamond shaped window to see an upside-down, placid male face covered with red and teal paint staring at them through the glass.

Valerie's eyes widened. " _Kyle?_ "

He soon disappeared over the top of the window frame. There was a revving of some sort of engine, and then they saw the back of a black figure zoom past the screen, hood up and cloak billowing behind them. She squinted at the fast-moving rogue, and then gasped— _That's my spare rocket sled!_

Danny recognized the red and black steel of the vehicle as well. "I knew he had to be an asshole, but never would have expected him to be prime ghost prey…he's getting away!"

Rushing to unlock the door, Valerie dashed out into the hallway with Danny following close behind. They ran down the stairs, impressively without stumbling, and into the kitchen. Exiting through the back door, both of them scanned the open sky above the Zeta's backyard for any sign of the perpetrator, but predictably there was none.

"I have had it!" Valerie yelled.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Gretchen, who had been tanning poolside. Irritated, she pulled out her headphones and stood up from her cushioned outdoor recliner, giving the two a menacing look.

"Did you not see that douchebag fly out here?" asked Valerie.

Madame President was dumbfounded. "What? Who?"

"Oh my God," Danny groaned, face-palming in aguish.

There was a rustle from the tall hedges behind the recliner. They all shifted their attention accordingly, Valerie appearing the fiercest. "I'm going to kick this ghost's ass."

Danny didn't doubt her conviction, but he questioned the likeliness of her bringing down a 6' 2" possessed meathead of a frat dude with no weapons and in nothing but a bra and panties, regardless of how fit she was. Though, he'd be lying if he said he didn't really want to see her try. Without warning, the figure burst from the other side of the bushes, whizzing past them all overhead and dropping something into the pool. It landed with a loud splash that sent water everywhere, spraying mostly at Gretchen. Keeping his attention on the figure, Danny saw that it actually seemed much shorter than six feet.

"You asshole!" she snarled. When her gaze settled on the upturned object floating in the pool, she let out a shriek that tore through the whole Zeta compound. He looked down in horror. Kyle's severed head bobbed serenely towards them. The rogue glanced over its shoulder, showing its pastel mask; its plastic smile looked particularly taunting. Eyes wild, Valerie picked up a sizeable potted succulent from beside the recliner and chucked it as hard as she could at the figure. It shattered against the back of its head, knocking it off balance and causing it to wind in flight. Two objects, one much smaller than the other, fell from its grasp and clattered onto the patio tile.

"Damn it, don't tell me that's my phone!" Danny griped. "I just upgraded to the 6S!"

Regaining a steady stance on the sled, the figure increased its speed and jetted far from sight. After she watched its receding form disappear completely over some treetops, Valerie grabbed the plump, luxury pillow from Gretchen's poolside chaise and released a harrowing series of screams into its soft, satiny girth. Gulping, Danny slowly sidled away from her and jogged over to his fallen phone. He almost choked up when he saw one long, jagged, nasty crack split across its screen. Picking the device up, he pressed the home button and swiped it open.

"Well," he said after a moment. "It still works ok."

"Guys!" called Gretchen. "Are we just going to ignore this freaking _head_ floating in the pool?"

Valerie uncovered the pillow from her face, eyes going to the cranium in question still drifting along the water like a beach ball. She scrutinized the white letters painted on his forehead: GO APU

" _...you know, I'm going to the football game tonight against Bridgeton. It'll be super wild."_

She released a melancholy sigh. "Maybe if I had gone with you to that game, I could have done something to prevent this from happening, Kyle…" Valerie lamented, trying to find the right words for some impromptu memoriam. "God, what _is_ your last name?"

* * *

To his enormous disappointment, Valerie had made Danny delete the sexy photos she had sent him. On the bright side, she really, really liked the bracelet, even if she didn't show it very much at first. She was still pretty embarrassed about what had happened, but didn't have the energy to get pissed off about something else for an extended amount of time anymore. Besides, it wasn't as if any of this had been Danny's fault. Still, she wasn't the type to accept "I'm sorry" gifts with overt displays of gratitude. However, as she surveyed the way the yellow-green gems glittered brilliantly around her wrist, she had to admit the piece of jewelry was one of the most beautiful gifts she had ever received.

"Where did you get the money for this?" she asked, rocking her legs back and forth in the air as she laid on her stomach. Danny sat in her desk chair, watching her on the bed, mesmerized. Valerie hadn't put any clothes on, feeling perfectly nonchalant in answering the police officers' questions, once they had arrived on the scene, in her skimpy black underwear. At this point, he could tell she was really past giving any sort of crap at all.

"I dipped into my own personal savings…" he fibbed. "and maybe took a small loan from my folks."

Valerie ran her fingers along the sequence of peridot stones. "Just for me?"

He bit his lip. Lies tasted awful on his tongue, especially when they rolled off so effortlessly, addressed to someone whom he cared deeply about. But she seemed so hypnotized by the present. There was no way Danny Phantom was keeping away from the Zeta house, but it had been a two-hundred dollar bracelet that Holly hadn't minded just throwing at him to give to her; might as well use it. Little did he know that he'd be watching her like a hawk no more than ever.

The manner in which Valerie was positioned—so kittenish in her movements and facial expressions, curly hair mussed and the generous curve of her rear looking so damn good as she lay there made for an image right out of a Drake video. "Just for you," he said.

"Paulina's pretty thrilled about us making up," Valerie said, knowing very well she hadn't and probably wouldn't thank him out loud. "Mallory and Ella probably will be too. These days they all seem more entertained now by my melodrama than scared of the grisly disembodied human parts that show up around here."

Danny chuckled. "Yeah. Once Paulina and Mallory came out to the backyard to see what was wrong, there was less screaming and more oh-not-another-dead-body looks."

"Everyone's getting sick of talking to the police over and over," she said. "who are so freaking useless, anyway."

"The police in this city have never really been adept at dealing with ghosts."

"Or dealing with anything in general."

"I guess that's why we have Danny Phantom around."

Valerie immediately became embittered at the mention of his name.

"So that thing is busted, huh?" she asked, deftly changing the subject. She nodded her head at the tiny object sitting on her desktop.

"Yeah," Danny said. "fell in a damp spot and short circuited."

Upon identifying the second item that the hooded figure had dropped as an ear communicator, Valerie believed that her and Phantom's theory of there being two killers was strengthened. However, since the device was broken, she wasn't exactly sure how much use it had to her beyond that. Though, she figured the ongoing case analysis could be put off until tomorrow. Well, actually, it probably couldn't; it probably needed to be the first thing on her mind every second of every day, but she was only human. And she had gone through so much already, definitely more than one endures on a typical Monday. She had tried to kill an authority figure, been spied on her room, failed to catch a murderer for what, the third time? And now she was missing a rocket sled. Valerie would have to invest in more bedroom door locks later.

She pushed herself off the mattress, swinging her legs forward and standing up, tossing her bouncy mane. "So are you taking me out for sushi or what?" she asked while sauntering towards him.

He stiffened in his seat. "Oh, uh…like right now?"

"No, not right now," she said. "maybe Friday night? Actually, no, make that Saturday night. My Friday evenings tend to get pretty busy."

Danny smiled. _Mine too_.

"Yeah, of course. Can you wear this same outfit?"

He had now gotten hit by her twice in less than a couple hours. He nursed his afflicted arm and gave her an apologetic glance.

"I guess you'll have to wait until Saturday to find out," she replied, and he couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not but he could hope for the best. Danny's pace quickened as Valerie leaned down and pressed her soft, full lips against his. Heaven.

She pulled away after a few seconds, sensually whispering: "now leave."

Disoriented by her rapture-inducing kiss, he could only say "huh?"

"Get out," Valerie ordered, shoving him in the shoulder so that he nearly fell off the chair. "I've got homework. And I've had a long day."

He gave her a cheeky grin as he got up and began making his way to the door. "Fine, fine. Don't forget to proofread your part of the lab report this time."

"Whatever, Fenton," she said, trying not to smile.

* * *

|524 Wicker St - 5:20 P.M.|

Dare he say it, but Danny was in a good mood. The body count at Amity U was piling up, he was probably failing chem, and his best friend slash ex-girlfriend was still pissed off at him, but this weekend, Valerie Gray would mosey out the door of Zeta house dressed in some super short skirt or tight dress, walk temptingly up to his '09 Camry, and he'd roll down its window and say something really suave and hopefully utterly un-Dannyish. He rubbed his lightly stubbled chin. _Should I shave? Does she like guys with a bit of five o'clock shadow or baby-faced?_ Since his facial hair pretty much disappeared completely when he transformed into his ghost self, there were times when he forgot it was there. Speaking of which…

He morphed back into his spectral alter ego as a new text notification from Valerie appeared on his "work" phone.

{Just got to the station

Danny prayed that Caitlin would be willing to open up to Valerie about what had happened at Zeta the night of the party. Heh. He laughed inwardly. A ghost praying.

Good luck. About to have a little chat with Brittany. She should be back from her job at the salon soon}

{Try not to freak her out too much

Same to you ;) }

Sam would have been proud of him for saying that. Or maybe not, since he was going on a date with Valerie this Saturday. It was something that didn't put her in a friendlier mood about him missing their Skype date last Friday night. Sure, she could understand all the hero stuff caused him to miss things like that from time to time, but her mindset changed once she learned that the heroics required for this situation in particular involved working closely with the Red Huntress. Sam was a firm believer of not shitting where one ate, and after Danny had told her that he basically had tried to distance Danny Phantom personally from the Red Huntress so Danny Fenton could mend their civilian relationship, it had taken all of her self-control to not give him a good tongue-lashing on the matter. And this had amounted to not talking much to him at all when he did bother to call her last Sunday. She wasn't sure why Valerie hadn't been talking to him at school (Danny had made sure to leave the detail about saying Sam's name out loud…along with the one about how he had made out with Valerie in-"costume" on the Zeta's kitchen counter… _along_ with the one about her electrocuting him in the girl's bathroom so she could try to murder the Dean), and now she didn't even care. She was steadfast in thinking that no good could come from either of the Danny's getting close to Valerie at this point. Sam cursed herself for her actions at the party; she knew she'd eventually regret being his wingwoman.

Still, Danny knew he had to keep her up to speed with any new developments on the case. Like Tucker, who had so graciously hacked the APPD records and inputted Valerie's relation to Caitlin as "half-sister"—go figure—Sam was a sharp analyst herself, and he and Valerie needed all the help they could get. After he had told Sam what Valerie had told him (following the innocent "scheduling appointment" she had with Dean Slyman, as Danny put it to Sam) about the Dean being freakishly superstitious and wary of anything having to do with demons or ghosts, Sam had agreed that idea of him summoning Felicity's ghost had new holes in it. Although, he did still seem to have occult-related items in his office, and Sam had promised to get back to him Tuesday evening on the symbol + herb and salt combo once she had researched them. The Dean could very well still be involved with all this ghost business, but he likely wasn't a possessed killer who had opened a portal from the world of the undead in his office if he was deathly afraid of even touching someone who had thirteen syllables in her name.

Danny smirked. "Di" was such a dorky and cute middle name, and he promised himself that he'd give Valerie more crap about it in the future. For now, he hovered leisurely above a branch in a tree across from Brittany's apartment, waiting for the the woman to return from work, scrolling through Valerie's Instagram to pass the time. Sure, he could have fazed right through the door and gotten his haunt on inside like a regular ghost, but this was politer and less creepy. Obviously.

On the other side of Amity Park, Valerie fiddled nervously with the chain of her tennis bracelet as a police officer opened the door to Caitlin Fowler's shrouded room.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter! Ugh, I hope it's not too boring. Happy to say there will be canon characters in the next chapter! Perhaps a familiar, idiot blonde jock? Gotta have someone to replace the dudes I've killed off already, right? Ha.

I'd like to thank the following reviewers: Gerren, Phantom Ice, and Claire, who was actually the first to review this story ^_^ You guys are awesome!


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